A Shell of You
by izzum
Summary: Fifth to Dez, Vigilante of the Capital Wasteland.  I like the Dez character too much to end the series, and found a lot of people actually sad that I had.  So, here's another one.
1. It's Over Tonight

It wasn't quiet for as long as I wanted it to be. Eventually, something had to happen, something had to change. I just…didn't expect it to be so soon, so suddenly. Well, I guess, a part of me did expect it to happen so quickly. Anything is possible, and out here, that's magnified to an unimaginable extent. But sometimes, sometimes in life, you just want to be quiet. You want to enjoy the small things, before the bigger picture forces its way back in. There are times when you simply want to sit, want to wonder and ponder about the mysterious beyond and the great unknown. Then, there are times where nothing like that even matters. Where all that does matter, is who you're with, at that point in time, at that moment in your life. And then, then, there are times when…you just want to sit, with nothing, do nothing, and be nothing. When…that's all you've ever really wanted, deep down inside.

The taste of Charon was still fresh on my lips. His scent was still covering every inch of me, when the Outcasts came. We weren't doing much, simply holding one another on the cold, hard, balcony floor. But it was still something I liked, something I wanted to do. Something, that I felt, I hadn't got the chance to do very often. So it was a shock, when Gob came in, screaming like he'd just seen something insane. With all the going-on in the Capital Wasteland, finding a good metaphor for how Gob was yelling exactly doesn't really fit. Anyways, he came in, with Zack clinging to him, scared out of his mind. I felt bad for the kid, Zack, and I felt bad for bringing this entire problem to them. I guess it can't be helped though. If you know me, with me or not, you're going to get involved. I wish it wasn't that way, but it is.

So the Outcasts came for us. They came, storming the tower just like they stormed the Citadel. No holds, shoot at will, get in and get out. I guess they suspected the ghouls to be some defenseless morons. Bessie Lynn proved them wrong when she chased half their group out with a Fat Boy. I watched that part from the balcony, while Charon and Gob devised a plan. What could I do? Walking down there would have sealed my fate, and I'm sure they wouldn't have simply left if I just gave myself up. Good thing I'm good with the ghouls, because they saved me. They helped Charon, Gob and me escape the tower without so much as a paper cut. No one on my side was lost, which I was relieved to hear. A couple injured, a few seriously injured, but no casualties. Also, no returning to the tower. Roy didn't exactly say that, but I felt if I wanted to keep those close to me alive, then I should just stay away. I owe them, after all, for saving my ass in all of that mess.

We were able to escape back to Megaton. I'm 75% sure that the Outcasts know we're here, but, they haven't tried to raid us yet. Simms wasn't glad to see me, or Charon. Gob he didn't care about, and actually played with Zack. Course he didn't believe he was Gob's biological father, but that argument isn't for this part of the story. I think it was because of Gob and Zack, that Simms let Charon and myself back in Megaton. Another argument ensued quickly after Simms started threatening me if I caused trouble, but Charon squashed that one. After running for our lives, and watching for a small child, Charon wasn't in the mood to fight anyone. None of us were. Tired, exhausted, sick, we just wanted to rest.

It didn't come as a shock, when I heard my old home was taken. I didn't expect it to stay empty, awaiting my return, but it would have been nice. A bed, a Wadsworth, you know, something to come home to. But it didn't happen that way, so we settled for the common house. The place for temporary travelers to rest up before they venture out again. We were able to bring three beds in one area together. Up on the second floor, away from everyone else, we made a makeshift home for an undetermined amount of time. There was a sad feeling to it all, though. As we all took off our guns and ammo and armor, and laid in our beds, it was just sad. Gob lulled Zack to sleep, and quickly fell asleep himself shortly after, but Charon and I stayed awake. We didn't talk, we didn't kiss, and we didn't whisper in the darkness of ourselves. We just laid there, each thinking the same thing, each wondering what we could never say.

How long could this go on for? How long, could we run for our lives, and put those we care for most in such danger? At one point in my life, I was reckless, crazy, had the world at my fingertips and snarled at everyone who walked by. There was a big 'fuck you' to anyone who crossed my path, and the value of life to me was at an all-time low. But that was then. And I've come to think that at some point, everyone goes through the same thing. How they take it and what they do with it is their choice, but in retrospect, it's all the same.

When I came from Vault 101 like a spanked newborn fresh from the womb, I'm not sure what people expected. What they wanted, what they thought, when Three Dog first reported my arrival. Some goody-two-shoes saint sent to save the world? Someone who would smile and give all they had to a passerby because she felt they needed it more? Maybe some angelic, virginal savior, sent down from the heavens above? I don't know. All I do know, is that it wasn't me. I came out with a stick up my ass and a flimsy pistol. A snarl that could make Raiders cringe and the habits of a Wasteland Junkie. I didn't know these people, I didn't owe them anything, and frankly I didn't care. I don't know why they were shocked, when I held them at gunpoint. Maybe vault kids are supposed to be good. Maybe I'm that rare percentage who wasn't. I don't know.

I'm different now, though. I'm more mature, and wiser. I still have my deranged sense of humor, my wit, my looks, but that's it. I learned 'pity' and 'mercy'. I learned to care, and in return be cared about. But at some point, you have to stop and take a look around. Look at the world, what you've been through, and what to do about it all. Charon's built for war, made for fighting, and can endure this life. I won't go on forever, like he probably will. I'm not built for much of anything, with my few set of skills and my little-about-a lot knowledge. I have an expiration date on my life. I know now, I don't want to spend the rest of it fighting. I don't want to be watching my back two seconds, and putting people like Gob and Zack in mortal danger. I'm not what the world revolves around, despite what I thought six or some odd years ago. There's other people in it, too.

I've brought them all I could, and given them all I had. This world took my mother, my father, my home, my morals and reasoning. Yet I gave. I risked my life, at Vault 87 and Raven Rock. I risked it when I walked into the Purifier to punch in the code. When I didn't give Autumn the password, when I said goodbye to Charon at the Jefferson Memorial. I risked everything, for people who hated me. I gave them clean water, and the chance to start anew. They gave me nothing. It hurts me, still to this day, to think about saying that final goodbye. To look at the last person in the world I ever cared about, the only one I had left, and turn my back on them. These people won't ever really know what it took, for me to do the things I have done for them. They won't ever care, either.

I told my story on GNR. I didn't leave out the nasty details or the bad parts. It was my entire, bare, soul. Still, when I walked into Megaton, Simms greeted me the same way. That told me, that they will never change. I can give all I can, to prove I'm here to just live, and they'll never believe it. I was born in the Capital Wasteland, but I wasn't raised in it. Because of that, I think is why they hate me. They must wonder, who I think I am, by coming here and fucking their shit up. Truth is, I don't think I'm anybody. I'm just Dezbe, a crazy girl, a crazy name. I'm simply trying to get by, and stay by the side of the one man I love. I guess that for them, is too much. Me, who did it all for them, for Gob and Charon, me, who loves a ghoul-creature for no other better reason than I just do. They hate me, and I can't continue to fight for a world, that simply won't accept me.

That was all I thought about that night. As Gob and Zack traveled and had adventures in a world I couldn't get to, Charon and I laid quietly awake. We thought of the world, of the people. Of past events, and of each other. I'm not sure what's worse. That we spent all night tossing and turning and thinking, or the fact that neither one of us confided in the other. That for the first time in our relationship, there was nothing to say. Knowing that scared me a bit. Charon and I shared everything together, but that night…that night we were silent.

Before I did fall asleep, though, I remember the last thing I thought of. I was thinking about the moment at the Rotunda. The radiation was so warm, too warm. It burnt me, inside, then out. That was before my immunization. Before I became the mutated person I am now. It wouldn't have done much of anything back then, if I was immune to it, just make me a bit stronger, really. I remember seeing Charon cry for the first time. The tears spilling from his face. How I thought it was the prettiest and most fulfilling thing of my entire life. That for once, I did something right. I gave Charon emotion, and free will. I felt proud of myself, if for nothing else, for him. Charon. My proudest moment, my proudest choice. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't change much. Except, maybe…I'd be nicer to him. I'd accept him into my life with open arms, rather than the begrudging sense of self of I had when his contract fell into my hands.

I looked at him, before I fell asleep that night. He was awake, his eyes open, staring at the metal-plated ceiling. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, something. But I didn't. Instead, I forced my eyes closed, rolled away, and made myself fall asleep. The emptiness I felt inside, during that cold and stale silence, isn't something I ever want to feel between me and Charon again.


	2. I Just Want to Be The One You Love

It's been two weeks, story of my life, since we've been in Megaton. All's been quiet, on the borderline of peaceful. Shit, it would be peaceful, if the ever-impending shadow of dooming doom wasn't hanging over my head and causing stomach-pits all the time. Actually, I lied. It's been shitty. There's some tension between me and Charon, and this time it's his fault, and Gob's looking too comfortable here. No one has made any effort whatsoever to devise a plan to get the fuck out of here and figure out where to go next. All Gob does is vanish into' Moria's with Zack, while Charon and I are left alone. The most he's said to me in two weeks is about three sentences. That's Charon, not Gob.

I can't tell you what's eating him, since he won't talk to me. Instead he spends his days sitting quietly in some dark corner of some gloomy area. Me, on the other hand, has been trying to drown worries and sorrows in liquor. Moriarty's is owned by someone else, go figure, and they're stocked pretty well. Can't tell you the name of the new saloon, but shit, it's got my vote. Even though it is really, really lonely. I'm trying to see the bright side. Trying to tell myself that my little world isn't ending and that Charon still loves me. At least I think. I hope.

It's night now, and I'm a wee bit drunk. No, no I lied. A few shots in and I'm the kind of drunk where I could probably go to sleep right now. I figure that's enough for tonight, so I start to stumble down to the common house. I say 'down' because it's a stupid uphill climb. I think that's to discourage travelers from getting smashed and coming back in. Too bad it hardly works for me. Too bad I don't give a shit. Lighting up a cigarette, I start to climb up the wooden makeshift steps to the door. When I get there, my dizzy and uncoordinated self trips. My body begins to rock back, and I'm about ready to fall, when I feel a hand wrap around my wrist.

"You shouldn't drink so much."

Charon's raspy and monotone voice sparks through my ears as he steadies me. With him speaking so little lately, anything he says now is a miracle. I miss him. I miss him so much. He hasn't even kissed me.

"Yeah well…"

I trail off and take my hand from him. His grasp, even though warm and comfortable, isn't inviting. He lets me go without effort or hesitation, and I stand in front of him. The smoke from my cigarette stings in my eyes, and makes them water. At least, that's what I'll tell him.

"You spend all your time up there."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

I'm not arguing, I'm just defeated. By all that's going on, and how my life is starting to turn out, I can't say I'm a happy sack of shit right now.

"I don't know."

Stale, awkward, tense silence. I take another drag of my cigarette, and exhale. I have enough liquid courage in myself to ask the things I've been too scared to ask.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been."

"You haven't…"

I have to look away. Who knew…a person could make someone else feel so good, and at the same time, feel so bad? I didn't. I should have, but I didn't.

"…There are things that…you wouldn't understand, Dezbe. Things, that I must do."

"Whatever these things are, you can tell me them."

"Dezbe…"

"I'm supposed to mean something to you, Charon. I'm…I…I miss you."

My cigarette falls from my fingers. I'm practically begging for him back at this point, but I won't let him see that. I'm too strong, to feel so weak.

"What are these 'things'?"

I pry, because I don't know what else to do. He doesn't say anything, and I get the hint. I get the point. I get it all, and I've never felt this kind of pain before. He doesn't answer me, but he doesn't need to.

"When are you leaving?"

"Soon."

"Tonight?"

He takes my hand, and kisses my forehead. His hand presses against the back of my head, and I close my eyes. I close them, for fear of opening them and this all being unreal. A part of me wants it to be.

"Stay here, Dezbe, and be safe."

I look into his eyes as he pulls away.

"I won't ask, but I need you, Charon."

"…Goodbye."

Charon's touch falls. It vanishes, and my heart goes with it. I don't turn to look, I don't turn to chase him. Just as he did when I left Underworld, I stand and wait until I can't hear him anymore. I wait, until his footsteps are far off in the distance, before I let anything out. Before…I do anything. It's quiet. It's late. I look at my hands, and I place them together. My own fingers don't fit between the spaces of one another.

You'd think by now, we'd be inseparable. That we'd know one another enough to stay. To chase. To follow. But we simply don't. We aren't. I can't say this is a surprise. I knew something was up with him, that something wasn't right. I didn't expect it so soon, so suddenly. If I didn't come home when I did, would he have even bothered to tell me? Would he have even cared?

As if I'm not in control of my own body, I lose myself. I lose everything. My mind sobers up, and the pain is indescribable. I've never felt so hurt before. So much pain, it's paralyzing. Have you ever had to say goodbye to someone you loved? Ever had to listen to their footsteps saying goodbye as they walked away? If you haven't, then you don't know what it is I'm feeling. If you can't imagine the pain, then I can't describe it to you.

Falling to my knees, I cover my face in my hands, and let out the wails and cries of a dying animal. I've never hurt so much before. I'd rather get shot twenty times over, than feel what it is I'm feeling now. The tears fall down my face, littering the dry dirt and dust below me. My nose runs with fluids and moistens my upper lip. My heart hurts, with each beat it takes. I never wanted to be on my own. I always needed someone, wanted someone. I didn't have the gall to admit it. I never wanted our love to fail. I wanted to believe it, to make it real. It's a sad melody, and when we first got here, there was nothing left to say. When there's nothing left to say, everything is wrong.

I don't know how long I sit there, crying, sobbing, hurting. I don't care, really. I can't feel much of anything. It's all numb.

"Kid?"

Gob's voice isn't warm. It isn't reassuring or welcoming. In fact, I don't want to be near him. But I look up anyways. I look up at him, letting him see the weakness on my face. Letting him see the pain. I want to chase Charon, want to chase him and beg him not to leave me. I want to tell him that in the vault, I received 'Marriage Counselor' on the G.O.A.T. That…that we can fix this. I know I can be mean, I know I can do anything. I know, I can cut him down to nothing. I only did it when he hurt me. I only attacked him, when I felt alone, scared, and helpless. I didn't mean to hurt him.

He never told me why he left. I don't think he had any intention of telling me. Since when did he act like this? Since when did he change, and all of a sudden hate me? He didn't…even say he loved me. He didn't even tell me he'd come back. He just left. Left me, crying, broken, a small shadow of someone I used to be. I'm not strong without him. I'm not strong, when only half of me is here.

When I look up to see Gob, I see the stars twinkling in the background. In the sky. Seeing it, reminds me of the nights Charon and I spent together. I cry more, the hurt bubbling and rising to such a painful extent that I can't even breathe. I knew I never should have loved him. But I couldn't help it. And if I had the chance, I'd fall in love with him all over again, time, and time, again.


	3. Familiar Places, Familiar Faces

(Gob)

The kid cries herself to sleep. It takes all the strength I have, not to tell her the truth. But I made my friend a promise, and I can see, how it's better this way. I suppose I should go back to the beginning. Go back, to when this first came up, to when I knew these next couple of weeks would be a change for everyone.

It was two days we'd been in Megaton, when Charon came to me. Dez is up at the old saloon, and Zack and I are hangin' around Moria's. I found some old parts and the skeleton of an old motorcycle, and I figure it's a good project to keep me busy. Shit, I know at the very least, it'll keep my mind away from the dangers and events at hand. So there I am, tinkering away, while Zack giggles and laughs himself into a coma while playin' with some newfound gadget he found. I don't pay Charon no mind when he comes in. I don't even look up when he shuts the workshop door and sits on an old workbench. Figure he just wants to watch me work, and remember the days when working on cars was a favorite pastime. That is, if he's ever done anything like that.

"I need to speak with you."

It ain't his words that make me look up. It ain't nothin' but the tone. I clasp the old wrench in my hand, as I look up at him. I know it's serious, by the look on his face. I know his mind is working to do something.

"What's up?"

I sound stupid when I ask, knowing the air is thick, but replying with an obscure answer. Sounds like I don't give a shit. But I do. I always do.

"The Outcasts are going to show up here eventually."

Sighing, I drop my wrench on the floor. I look at my feet as I sit on the swivel stool.

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"Which is why I need to do this."

"Do what?"

Charon don't have to say nothin'. The pain in his eyes says it all. I don't try to persuade him out of whatever cockeyed scheme he's cooking up. I figure those two, Charon and Dez, will do whatever they want to do despite my arguments. It's just my job to be a good friend to them.

"Gob, I need you to promise me that you won't tell Dezbe anything. Anything I may say to you, you must keep to yourself."

"Uh, sure but, what's the big secret?"

"I can't say right now. But trust me."

I ain't got room to argue. Guy just gets up and leaves faster than he came. Left me pretty confused, but I didn't think much of it. I've known Charon and Dez long enough to know that well…they're just a couple of fools. Ain't gonna ask questions, its better not to. Shit will figure itself on its own, and moreover, they'll figure themselves out on their own.

I was more preoccupied with my own shit at the time anyways. Since we done went and uprooted from Tenpenny, I figured I'd take some time to settle in Megaton. After all, spent a good part of fifteen years here, and the air is good. Ain't no other ghouls here but me, but I figure the place is good for Zack. Bomb still has its puddle, and some dirty, irradiated water for him to play in ain't so bad. People here are nice to me, those who've stayed the years and whatnot, and it's safe. All I gotta really do is find a permanent home for me and Zack. Somehow him growing up in the common house ain't really my idea of fun.

Plus, on the brighter side of my own bright outlook, the Outcasts ain't gonna come bargin' in. This is a human settlement, and a damned good one. Not like Paradise Falls or none of that. If they come here, Brotherhood or Outcasts, it's for business, protection, or Dezbe. Dez won't stay too long, and that's all well and fine with me. Use to her takin' off with Charon on adventures. Zack will miss her though. He's takin' a liking to her. Not that I don't see why, and it's not unusual, but just sayin'. Anyways. There's no trouble here. Not much shootin', and if there's fightin' Simms takes care of it. Can't seem to see a better place to raise Zack. Plus, it's where his mother and I met. I'll tell him that one day, when he's older, and show him the saloon and how she used to…well, maybe I'll leave that part out.

Dez and Charon, hell, they were made for this world. Like someone high up above said 'Look, we need two people who can really fuck shit up, so let's make some' and the product was those two. They can run rampant, shoot up everything in sight, come near death, but they can live. I wasn't made for that. I'm a ghoul. That's it. I was a wanderer, I became a ghoul, I went to Underworld. Ain't much else after that. Never really got into fights or trouble or anywhere near the shit they do and see. I'm a pacifist. Rather just keep to myself, my life, my business, and let everything else fly by. Sure it gets lame but when I see Dez or even someone like Roy comin' back from the outside all broken and bruised, I cringe a bit. I don't like pain, and I certainly don't want to put myself in the position to feel pain. Nothin' personal, just don't like the feel of my own body being dismembered.

Anyways. So I was just minding my own damn business when Charon came and left. Didn't think much of it. Never really do. But then I was down out behind Moria's. Sun was hot, weather was the same, and Zack wanted to be outside. So I dragged the scraps of the motorcycle I was workin' on out there. Nothin' too great, just tinkering a bit and wonderin' where the hell I could find a belt for it. I mean, it ain't a common find to my knowledge. It's just me, sitting there grumblin' and scratchin' my head. It was what, four or five days now at this point we'd been hiding out and keeping a low profile. Dez was starting to make a habit of hiding in the saloon and Charon kind of just wandered around aimlessly. Or he sat just outside the gates for hours. Don't know what exactly he did, wasn't exactly paying attention.

He comes over and I know it's him cuz his shadow covers my entire project and I was kinda glad to see him.

"Hey, next time you and Dez venture off, think you can find me a belt for this engine? Any size will do, I can melt it or stretch it if need be."

Since I was off with my own thing, and whatnot, I didn't notice Charon was being all serious. He didn't move or talk for a bit, but then he started pacin' and that was distractin' me. So I tried to get back to working and tinkerin', and when I couldn't, I got fed up.

"Alright what the hell you botherin' me for now?"

I asked, finally lookin' up at him. I saw Zack behind him a few feet, just playin' and mindin' his own damn business. It was cute. I smiled at it a bit.

"I'm detaching myself from Dez."

I've heard a lot of crazy shit in my life. But that's pretty fuckin' crazy. So I had to inquire what was up of course.

"Why in the hell would you go and do that?"

"The Outcasts are going to find us if we stay here."

"I don't see the connection."

"I'm going to throw them off our trail."

"Still don't see it."

"I'm leaving Megaton to do that, and my returning home alive is slim."

"…And you think that by making Dez think you hate her will make it better?"

"Not in the least, my chances of surviving are slim regardless of what I do. But if I could make it easier on her, then it would be better."

"I still ain't getting you."

"Gob, would you rather see her waiting for the return of someone who may not come back, or picking up the pieces and getting over it? If I can evade her, and make her think I've lost interest, she'll be more likely to get over my absence than she will if I left her in any other way. Do you understand now?"

"I understand how stupid that is. You're gonna go and throw yourself back to the Outcasts, and make Dez hate you…for what exactly?"

"To keep dumbasses like you safe. They'll tear this place down looking for her. Me going out there, and getting them off of the trail of Megaton will increase everyone's safety. If I don't return, then Dez won't know or care otherwise. She'll be too busy hating me for leaving her. I don't know when I'll be back, if I come back, but it is better this way."

"I think I see what you're gettin' at now, Charon, but…I don't know. Don't you think you've put her through enough?"

He gives me a dangerous look and I shrug carelessly.

"Well I mean, with all the shit you two been through, don't you think you should jus' lie low and chill out for a bit?"

"If Dez and I had that leisure we would take it. You seem to forget the trail of people after us, and if it isn't that, there are things we have to do on the side."

"How'd this all start anyways? With her dad, right?"

"Yes. Project Purity."

"She must be pretty pissed he did all this to her."

"Most of what is happening now is her own fault. I blame no one, except her and myself. I'm unsure of who she blames. Not herself, though."

"Well…if you think it's best then I ain't gonna stop you. Jus' sayin, think she's seen enough."

Charon didn't say anything to that. Just walked away. Dunno why he keeps talking to me like this. Figure he feels someone has to know what's really goin' on so he's not seen like some kinda villain. I can't figure how they can do this to themselves, but again, ain't my business.

Shakin' my head, I light a cigarette at that point. My life ain't theirs. It don't revolve around them. At some point, you gotta step back and look at the big picture. In reality I'm a single dad. Ain't an uncommon thing, what with that Billy guy or whatever takin' over Sally. If that's their names, can't remember. Not to mention Simms. Whole, complete families are hard to come by. With one parent being a parent, and the other the provider, it's hard. You gotta hold down what you can, and fight for what you got. It's what I gotta do now, with Zack.

We don't live in the tower no more. It ain't closed, it ain't secure. Shit, if a rainstorm happened, I promise you this place would flood a million times over. But rain don't ever come here, so I ain't worried. But still. Shit like that, shit you've never thought of before, you think of when you're a single parent. When I look at Zack, I don't see what Doc Barrows and the others saw. I don't see a scientific miracle. I see _my_ miracle. That somehow, in a ghoul-world of sterile sperm and a dying generation, he was conceived. That in the midst of all that was dirty and unspeakable, his mother looked my way.

I never cared for the number of men she brought up to her room, or how many inhalers of Jet she scammed from them. I never minded the noise of her Johns that kept me awake at night. When she would look at me, while Moriarty was in the other room, I couldn't see any of that. All I could see, was this vision of beauty, looking at _me_. Me, in a room of guys and men, stronger, tougher, human, she looked at me. Together, through secrecy, sneaking, and caution, we made something of that. Zack is a product of that. He lives on, a small piece of Nova I am able to keep with me. It's my own damned miracle, and when you ain't got much, you wanna keep that.

There just comes a time, where you have to step back. Figure my time, is now. I can't keep up with Dez and Charon. I can't keep tabs or play matchmaker. I gotta focus on my life, and Zack's. I gotta work hard, and buy up the first free house here. It ain't gonna be easy, and I sure as hell am gonna feel bad for not being there for Dez whenever she calls, but shit, I have to do what I have to do. I'll listen when need be, but that's all I can offer anymore.

Couple more days go by after that. Time to time I see Dez staring at Charon at night. Ya know, when the common house was all asleep and Charon was in some lone bed away. She'd think I was sleepin' but I wasn't. She'd just watch him, drunk, her eyes glassy and teary. It made me kinda want to tell her things, but…then I didn't. I didn't cuz it would complicate it and I figure Charon would know best at what to do. He's the combat expert, and the Dez expert, so I don't wanna pick the wrong bone with him.

But one day, closer to Charon's leaving, Dez came to talk to me. By now I had scavenged a few more parts for the motorcycle, but I wasn't doin' that. I was down near the puddle, just watchin' Zack splash around. Water ain't deep so I wasn't worried. Comes to my knees, and I was standin' in it. The loon who used to rave around here is long gone and thank god. Dunno what happened to him, but it sure is nice not to hear him preachin' at me. Thought I was some godly creation or whatever. Yeah, right.

Next thing I know, though, is Dez is right alongside me, standin' in the puddle too. I know her immunity and all, but I still worry. Don't want her lookin' like one of us. Or Greta. She's always scared me.

"Hey, be careful kid. Dunno if you'll be ghoulified."

"I disarmed this bomb, you know."

She acts like she ain't even heard a damn thing I said.

"Yeah, I remember."

"It was one of my first memories, when my head was coming back."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. I came here, looked at the bomb, and it flashed like an old movie. Took over my eyes, is the best way I can see it. Just looked at it, and I _knew_ I did it."

"That's nice, kid."

She's quiet and I can see through the murk she wiggles her toes. I glance over at Zack, who's sitting down splashing a damn storm. He likes it here, I'm glad.

"You know…do you know what's up with Charon?"

"What?"

"Don't play stupid, Gob. He hasn't spoken to me in days and…do you know anything?"

I know that look. The look she was givin' me. I'd seen it before. I'd give it to Nova, when I'd beg her to stay in my bed just a little bit longer. Praying that Moriarty was gonna fall sick and sleep in. I'd give the world to have her in my bed for a minute longer. It's a sad look, and it tears my heart right to pieces. But Charon asked, and he made me swear. Well, not really. Just a man thing, I suppose.

"No, why?"

"Because Gob he…I just have this feeling he don't…_like_ me anymore."

"That's stupid."

"Maybe he's just going through a mood, right? That he's thinking about something and he wants time alone? I think that's possible. Yeah. I think."

Her voice is so damn…_desperate_. Like she's tryna calm herself down and make herself believe that's true. I jus' nod my head in agreement, not sayin' much, not sayin' anything. She don't say anythin' after that. Jus' looks at me with them big, doe eyes and walks back up to the top of Megaton. I felt like shit when I didn't tell her the truth, but I'm sure it's for the best. Just dunno why I always get dragged into this shit.

Ain't a day later when Charon comes back. It's the last time I see him, and I'm pissed as shit. Zack's asleep and I stepped out for a smoke. It's just me an' him, an' I speak first.

"Between you and Dez, I start to wonder where the fuck you lose sight of the big picture."

Charon's shocked by my boldness, so he jus' looks at me. Looks quite stupid, too, so I explain myself.

"I mean, I get what you're doin' and all but shit…you two _always_ take off. And one returns, and then the other. Ain't nothin' new you're doin' and you're actin' like it's the end of the goddamned world. Just don't get why you can't kiss her fuckin' cheek and say 'see you soon'."

"…I went outside Megaton today. The Outcasts were in the area. In sight of Megaton. I figure it's a matter of time before the West Coast faction of the Brotherhood gets here and takes over. You and Zack aren't safe with us in this town. I told you my plan, and without putting Dez, or anyone else, in danger, it's the best I can think of."

"Why not jus' take Dez and really take off?"

"They'll follow us. If I survive evading them, I can return here, scoop up Dez, and leave the Capital Wasteland."

"What, you don't think they won't come here lookin'?"

"Oh they will. They just won't be as violent. They know we're here now. If they think we left, they'll just search the area to make sure. Then they'll leave. But if we stay, and say, I don't trick them, then Megaton will soon look like the rest of this world."

I ain't about to admit it to his face, but Charon's right. It's better, I guess, if the Outcasts only catch one of them. Charon, really. Then Dez is safe, and she can take off and if he don't eventually come back then I'll have to tell her so she can save her own ass. If they both leave, they both risk getting caught, and then the Tenpenny invasion woulda been all for nothin'.

"I get what you're sayin'."

Charon nods, as he lights his own cigarette. It's at that moment, when I make up my own damn mind. As I watch him do somethin' as simple as lighting a cigarette, I get the message that's been delayed in my fuckin' head. I watch him lift his hands from his pockets, watch him place the cigarette between his lips, and watch as he takes a match and lights it. The damn glow of the match lights up his face, and I see this scar on his neck. Not sure where it's from and I ain't about to ask, but jus' suttin' about this scar makes my eyes open. I can't quite explain it, but I watch it as he cranes his neck, to get the cig to meet the flame, and it stretches. Ain't nothin' special about it, it's a scar and I get that. But…shit there _is_ somethin' about it. Maybe it's the thought of where he got it, or knowin' that there's tons more where I can't see, that makes me understand completely, why Dez and Charon, are Dez and Charon.

"You thinkin' you're gonna come back?"

I ask as he tosses the match down on the ground. It don't matter to me really. He's my friend, an' I do care, but I understand now. When you understand something, it's easier to deal with things.

"Not sure. I won't give you a time frame, because it wouldn't be true. If I come back, I lived. If I don't, I died."

"And Dez? You know her, Charon. You know she ain't gonna sit pretty and wait in Megaton. Even if you did convince her of the worst, it ain't like she'll stay here forever."

"…I didn't think of that."

He admits his mistake of overlookin' an important detail. I don't give him shit about it.

"I'll keep her here as long as I can but, if she goes, she goes. Ain't nothin' I can do about that."

Words don't need to be said by then. Charon looks at me, in the darkness, and for the first time since the Great War, I feel human. Like I'm jus' some regular ol' guy, outside my own damn house, havin' an intimate conversation with my best friend. We stand in silence, smokin' and starin' up at the stars that litter the sky. Charon and Dez, they got their own story, and I got mine. Mine, mine will end here in Megaton. When and if the Outcasts come will just be another chapter, nothing big, nothing to fret over. My life after tonight, will consist of important things, like Zack's first riding a bike, if I can fix one. I can't go on with their events and mishaps, that's their thing. Me? I'll just stand by, and help them out best I can, and when time comes, let them go. Can't go outta my way anymore for 'em, but shit, I can be the one they both come to for advice or just to vent.

Charon shakes my hand after that. A strong, firm handshake between friends. Even then, I knew it would be the last time I saw him before he left, and it was. He didn't talk to me after that, didn't seek me out. Just went about his things, an' I went about mine. Nothin' much left to say to one another, really. What do you say to someone, who might not return? Goodbye? See you soon, it was nice knowin' ya? Shit, I don't know. What I do know, and can be sure of is that…Charon and Dez…they're one in a damn million.

So now, it's the present. I'm sittin' at the end of Dez's and Charon's bed jus' watchin' the poor girl sleep. She cries still, you know. In her sleep an' all. It breaks my heart. It does. I ain't never seen her so sad, so broken and lost. She wept like she'd just lost an arm or somethin' really serious. I guess she has, though. Lost somethin' more important than an appendage. Don't they grow back now? No, no that mutation hasn't happened yet. It'd be useful though, if it did. Anyways. I know by not tellin' her the story of Charon and how he came to me the days leading up to this, I'm doin' her a favor. Savin' her a lot of heartache, and maybe even her life. I know Dez, an' I know if I go and start runnin' my gob, she's gonna go and start runnin' right after him. I'll never admit it to his face, but Charon, he was smart and right about this. At least now, one of them will live for sure, and one of them will carry on. I'm humbled, I guess, by his selflessness.

Strokin' Dez's face, I admire her smooth skin and how it feels against the back of my hand. Ain't nothin' creepy or perverted about it, jus' sittin' here wonderin' if there's anythin' I can do to ease the pain. I know what she's goin' through. Maybe not to the same extent, but I get it. I know how it feels, to lose someone you love. Someone who you felt complete and whole with. Someone who without, you don't feel like anything else matters, and you don't feel like the person you once were.

My words and offerings of sympathy won't help her, though. She'll brush it off and ignore what I have to say. As her friend, all I can do is be there for her when she needs me, listen to her cry, and support her when she tries to get better. There'll be times I know, when she'll hate Charon and every fiber of his being, and there'll be times when she hurts and pains for him. In each of those times, I have to remain calm, stable, and assure her of as much of the truth as I can offer. Ain't gonna go off tellin' her his big plan, but I will tell her he loves her, or loved. I'll tell her the words she needs to hear, and send her off on small errands around Megaton to keep her busy. If the Outcasts still raid this place, I'll hide her safe and sound. Eventually, after some time, she won't hurt as much. An' I'll tell her that, cuz I'm her friend. Cuz I care about her. I'll tell her it may feel like the end, and it may feel like you want to off yourself or throw yourself to the mercy of the Super Mutants, but it ain't the end, and you ain't gonna kill yourself. There'll be a day, when she wakes up, and the pain will be gone. When she realizes she has much more to live for, than just being by Charon's side.

I know Charon ain't all Dez lives for, but I know it's a part of her. When I first met Dez, it wasn't five months after she got out of the vault, when she came trotting in here with Charon on toe. In a sense, he's been with her, her entire life. Life out here, anyways. A lot of shit went down between them, and both of them played major roles in the other's life. I can understand, why she would feel so damned depressed. All she's gotta do though, is remember what she lived for _before_ Charon's arrival. After that, shit I'm sure the kid will do some good. Well, not _good_ like save the world or nothin', but good in a sense where maybe she'll be able to laugh and smile again. I look forward to that day, when she looks at me, and she can smile with all them teeth showin' and _really_ mean it. But for now, all I can do is hope that she finds some sweet release in her uneasy sleep. All I can do, is stand by, and try to live my life to the best of my abilities. It ain't gonna be easy, but I can try. Out here, in the Capital Wasteland, trying is the best you can do.


	4. My Immortal

(Dez)

I look up, and I see stars. I see them, and they shine. Shine, shine, shine. You shine, stars, you shine. They make me smirk a bit, because I know tomorrow night they'll be there. And the night after that, and the night after that, these stars, they'll be high up in the sky. Maybe in different positions, but they'll always be there. You can see them all, billions and billions of miles away. Stars, in their big, burning balls of gaseous heat and smelly stuff. Tomorrow, when I look up at the night sky just as I am right now, they'll be there, and they'll be shining down right on me, just as they have, since I was nineteen.

I stopped keeping track of days, of time, of everything really. I stopped caring if the Outcasts would come today or tomorrow or never ever again. I stopped caring about a lot of things. I'm not depressed, I'm not suicidal, I'm just tired. Have you ever felt this way? Felt so tired inside, your bones would ache for rest and the deep embrace of a good night's sleep? It's how I feel now, every day, no matter how much I sleep, or how much I don't. I try not to think of him, try not to think of how he left me with nothing, with not so much as a goodbye handshake. I don't want to think about him, but on nights like this, he's all I can think about.

I won't run to Gob about it. I guess when I go inside, or he comes looking for me, you'll understand why. Understand, why now I can't talk to him about these feelings. How sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, and sneak past the gates of Megaton. Sitting outside them, I don't do much. I just sit, and look for something. There are nights when I see things, Raiders, people, traders, Super Mutants, so far off in the distance they can only be seen if I squint really, really, hard. On nights like that, I don't admit to myself what I'm _really_ looking for. That I'm looking for him. That a part of me, will always look for him, and anticipate and hope for his return.

If he hadn't given me such a negative vibe when he left, I would have chased him. Would have begged him to let me come with, and would have stubbornly followed him into the depths of wherever he wanted to go. It's better this way. I like to tell myself that. Because I'm so tired. I want to rest. At least, a part of me does. Another part, wants to run away, fight, and find a place where Dezbe can just be Dezbe. Megaton isn't that place. I have Gob here, and that's great, but I don't intend on spending the rest of my life barred off from the rest of the world. Eventually, I'll leave Gob too, and then the three of us will be alone. Well, Gob has Zack, so I suppose he'll never really be alone. But I will be. I know I will be.

It's safe here, and it's nice to have that. The Outcasts, if they were coming, would have come by now. I'm not sure really, what deterred them from storming the gates and declaring war on innocent citizens. I suppose some things, are just simply better left unanswered. The people here don't bother me nearly as much as they used to, and Simms doesn't even give me a second glance. I suppose now, since he left, everyone thinks I'm no harm to them. I want to tell them I never was, and never will be. That right now, I need to rest and be free, and pretend like it's all okay. I won't, though. I want to, but I won't. All I do these days, is follow Gob around, not saying much, and hang out at the common house. Such a big change, than how I was before. But like I said, I'm just tired.

Sometimes, though, I think of that night. The night on the balcony of Tenpenny Tower that he and I spent together. I think of that night, before the Outcasts showed up. How peaceful, how perfect, how I wanted to spend every night of my life just like that with him. I wouldn't change anything that happened between us that night, even if it meant getting him back now. Moments like that, they never come to people like me. They can't be made up, or written about, or even described in proper detail. They simply happen. And when they do happen, if you're lucky enough to have them happen, they're perfect. Moments like that, make beautiful memories that people like me sit back and think about. Even in my darkest hour, when the pain hurt me like I've never been hurt before, that memory made me smile. The pain is still there now, inside my chest, and it still brings tears to my eyes, but it's not as powerful as it once was. I suppose with time, things heal. Time…time isn't important to me anymore. It just isn't.

"Hey."

Gob's voice from behind me doesn't scare me. I don't turn to face him. I simply fold my arms, and continue on staring up at the night sky. It's beautiful.

"Hey."

I reply, feeling his arms wrap around my waist. I owe Gob a lot, for all he's done for me, since…the night he left.

"How you doin'?"

He asks as he nuzzles his face into my neck. I feel his soft lips against my skin, and I sigh and smile a bit. I haven't laughed yet, though.

"Alright. Just looking at the stars. You?"

"Just got Zack to bed. You comin' in? It's gonna be a cold night."

"Yeah, yeah I know. I should, huh?"

"If you want to, ain't gonna bother me much if you wanna stay out here more."

"I'll come, I guess."

He kisses my cheek, and takes my hand in his. I smile at him, and give him a soft kiss on the lips. Gob's taken care of me, my friend in the background, the one who has always been there for me. Even now, he steps up. When he's near, I feel different. I don't feel so sad, I don't feel so hurt. Like he's a cushion, for all the pain and anguish I've been feeling. Gob offers a different sense of security, that _he_ was never really wanting to give me. A sense of normalcy, and security in which I can wake up, and know for a fact, I can do the same thing tomorrow as I did the day before. Consistency. I'm not sure though, how long consistency and I will last. Eventually, things have to change. They always have to change.

"Dez, you sure you're alright?"

Gob pries as he holds my hands, both of them now. I look into his soft eyes, his comforting eyes. I nod, a cold breeze fluttering my hair. Lately, unusually, the temperature in the Capital Wasteland at night has been dropping. Some nights, when I breathe out, I can see my breath. Gob says its normal climate change, and that before the Great War, this part of the United States would get very hot months, and very cold months. He didn't go into much detail, and I didn't ask. I just accepted that maybe, times are changing.

"Yeah. Better than I have been. Just thinking a lot tonight is all."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

Gob sighs, his thumbs rubbing the backs of my hands.

"When you leave at night, where do you go?"

Biting my lip, I look down. I don't know how to answer his question without sounding like an asshole. He's been so nice to me, so comforting, just as a best friend should. Only difference being, Gob's stepped up slightly from the 'best friend' status.

"Outside Megaton. I go out there and just watch things."

"Dez, you know that's dangerous, there could be Outcasts out there."

"Gob…they haven't come. I don't know why they haven't, but…if they wanted me, I have a feeling they know where to find me. Thing is, they don't want me."

Gob nods, and kisses me once again. Lifting his hands, he brushes my now longer hair away from my face. I can tell when he's thinking, and right now, he is. He's thinking of things, of me, and of things I can't quite read. If this was someone else, someone I didn't know very well, I'd concern myself with exactly _what_ they were thinking of me. But standing in front of me right now, isn't someone I hardly know. This is someone I know pretty well. This is Gob, my friend, my best friend, and at this point in my life, my only friend.

He kisses my forehead, and we stand eye-to-eye. The same height. It's kind of funny. In public, we usually don't do open displays of affection. During the day, sometimes I take Zack and play. Sometimes I tinker with the guns lying around Moria's. Actually, I'm in the middle of finishing my own customized sawed-off. But, yeah, that's different. Gob spends most of his time tinkering on an old moto-cycle. Not sure what it does, exactly. He says it's like his truck, only there's two wheels and only one or two people can ride on it. Oh, and that it can go into places better. Like woods. Yeah, because the Capital Wasteland has enough trees to make a forest.

I suppose there should be a mention of how Gob and I came to be…intimate. I can't quite say 'intimate' because I haven't slept with him. Not exactly. Kind of? I don't know. There was no penis-to-vagina interaction, but we do sleep together. In the same bed. And we make out and stuff. But it happened a bit more innocent than how I'm describing it. I'm not sure how long after _he_ left that it started. A week? Two? Three? Like I said, I stopped keeping track of time. Anyways, I was outside of Megaton. I was crying, because I was just sitting and remembering the past. Watching the Wastes like I was, and remembering what I was remembering, made me cry. Not loudly or anything like that, but simply silent tears running down my face. Gob came out with Zack looking for me in the middle of that episode. Looking back, I guess I can go fifty-fifty on if I regret it or not.

He had sat down beside me, and I showed him my gun so he would know that letting Zack run off a few yards would be okay. He did, and we were alone. After a few small words of comfort on his end, I don't know, we just kissed. I saw in his eyes that day, how lonely he was. In my eyes, he saw the same. Silently, we made a mutual agreement, to try and make one another not so lonely. To try and fill the voids left by other people, in hopes that one day we can wake up and feel alright again. That day for me, it hasn't happened yet. I wake up, and simply feel less pain than the day before, and a comfort at looking down beside me and seeing Gob. There were nights, though I'll admit, when I'd wake up and look over, and for an instant believe Gob to be Charon. In the darkness of night, in the dark common house, I would believe the tricks my mind played on me. I'd believe them, with my heart pounding rapidly in my chest, until that is, an unsteady hand would reach out to him, and feel that it was just Gob. The excitement would disperse, and my heart would calm itself, but I'd still feel comfort, and safety, in knowing that Gob was beside me.

Gob isn't as safe as _he_ once was. If anything, if it ever came down to it, I'd be protecting Gob. There's no hard body to press myself against when the night becomes too cold, or when I felt frightened. No large hands to engulf my body and face in a warm touch. No leather armor pants chafing my thighs as we spooned. None of that. Simply Gob, is the only way I can say it. Not to hint that he was better, just to say that it's different. It reminds me too much of New Vegas, almost. But…in New Vegas, it was I who left him. I lived with my choice, with knowing it was my own and there not being any hidden agendas. This time, he left me, and I don't know why. That's what kills me, is the not knowing.

"It's gettin' cold out."

Gob says, rubbing my bare arms. Yeah, yeah I suppose it is. It's been getting like that lately, colder and colder at night. I'm not the only one who notices it, either. I hear some of the people talking around Megaton, wondering what's going on. Some think it's the end of the world…again, and others simply think it's a small change in the climate, and nothing to be concerned with. I'd care, but I don't, and therefore I have no opinion on the matter. It's just the weather, after all.

"Yeah, I know."

I tell him, stepping into his open arms. I rest my head on his shoulder, his body warming me only slightly. I sigh, closing my eyes as he holds me. I need comfort. I don't care anymore, who offers it.

"You want to come in and lie down? The Brass Lantern might be open, I could go get some Squirrel Stew?"

"No, no I'm not hungry. I could lie down though, I guess. It's a pretty night out, though."

Lifting my head, I pull away from him and look at the stars. They hold a lot of secrets, these stars. They watch everyone, and see everything. Often, I wonder if they'll ever expose those secrets. If one day the world gets to see it's own vices, secrets, commodities that it holds within each individual life on the planet. But, I know that will never happen. As exposed as we are to the stars, and as they are to us, they're good. They're quiet. They'll watch you, and everything you do, but they won't breathe a word of it to anyone. Don't ask me how I know this, I just do. When you're alone like me, like how I am most of the days now, you have a lot of free time to let go and think. I think a lot now. I don't like it much.

"I'll meet you inside, okay?"

I tell Gob, and he nods. Leaving a kiss on my cheek, he vanishes up the wooden steps built into the sand, and I turn my gaze back to the sky. Sitting down, I light a cigarette, my gaze not breaking. I want to say a million things to them, to the stars.

"Where are you?"

I ask them, quietly, hardly above a whisper. A small fog begins to fall upon Megaton. Fog was something I learned about not too long ago, when I saw it for the first time. Gob had to explain it to me, and then I understood. I wasn't scared of it anymore. I've come to like it. I feel private, and hidden, when there's a thick fog.

This fog isn't thick, though. Just a thin mist of moisture falling down from the sky. I inhale on my cigarette, and blow smoke rings. Each night, I sit, and I ask the stars when this will end. When the pain, will finally vanish. I know it won't be soon, because in New Vegas, it never truly left me. I'm just so scared of being alone now, and I'm so scared of doing this without…without him. Who says that tomorrow, the Outcasts won't come? I suppose if they do now, I wouldn't much care. I can't think of anything worth fighting for, anymore. When all you've had to fight for is lost, then what more do you have?

No mother, no father, a single friend, and a lost love. My life…my life isn't happy. It isn't blessed by any means. I'm sure by now there's a large bounty on my head, and twice as many people want me dead. My story, and telling it on GNR, hasn't helped change the opinion of me to many of the citizens here. When all that you knew, comes crashing down around you, then what comes next? After we escaped the Outcasts, after he had broken free, I realized something. Something, I suppose I didn't want to admit.

After so long, after years of being together, and years of being apart, he somehow managed to be the one shining light that I lived for. Not entirely lived for, but about a good 75% of myself did. The other 25% was for me. Isn't that what love is about? Thinking of that person more than you think of yourself? I think so. I think love is when you care about someone more than you care about you, and doing all you can to make them happy. I can't say if he's better off without me, because I'm not sure what his motives were when he left. If he's happier, though, then I don't want him to come back. I say that, with honesty, with love, and I mean it with my whole heart. All I want now, is to just be happy, to be me, and to be free. There's a place out there where I can have all of that, it's just a matter now of finding it.

I feel moist tears running down my face, as I lift my hand to bring my cigarette to my lips. Everyone sleeps, and I lie awake, missing him. I miss his arms around me. I miss everything about him, and the missing, is what brings the pain. I do feel guilty, when I think of him while I kiss Gob, but I don't ever dare mention the guilt. I just take the comfort. I try. Each night, I watch the sky turn bright orange, to dark blue, to midnight blue. Sometimes, the silence isn't so bad. I still can't hold my own hand, my fingers don't fit. They don't feel right. Gob's fit, but they don't feel right. But, when I sit here, thinking of him, I don't feel so alone. I imagine, when I close my eyes, he's sitting beside me. I think of him, more times than I breathe at night.

Standing, I reach my arms to the sky, dropping the cigarette. What I wouldn't give, to feel alive again. What I wouldn't give, to forget the world I live in, and begin new. I want to hold him close, and I want to kiss his lips. I beg the stars every night, to tell him that I wish he was here. I don't think that they ever do, though. I don't think, they ever will. Gob won't know any of this, either. As I stand, reaching to the stars, wanting to join them so badly but knowing I won't, I know in my heart I can't tell Gob this. Any of this. I can't tell him, without hurting him. He's been trying so hard, to make it all go away, to make the pain stop. In a way, he has. And I appreciate him for that. I appreciate everything he's doing, and all he's done. It's just, I can't help…but miss his arms around me. A comfort, most girls can agree with, is the best given by the one you love.

Lowering my arms, I stand defeated with them at my sides.

"It's not the same, without you."

I whisper, dropping my head. You can't whisper quietly, with one person. I look at my hands, I feel sad. My fingertips graze my diagonal scars across my face, the burn on my neck. They dance beneath my top, tracing the scar that twists up my ribs, around my back. I feel each and every scar, and with each tracing touch, comes a memory. A memory, in which he was there. In my mind, as I let my hands fall from my body, I think of myself playing piano. The notes, they come so easily, playing in my mind. It's Hallelujah. It's a sad song, with a sadder theme. When I play it, when I think of it, I am reminded of all the times we fought together. Battling unseen forces, and battling our own inner demons.

"I lived alone, before I knew you…you know."

I whisper, the tears falling to the dry dirt at my feet. His image flashes in front of my closed eyes, blurred. Over time…you forget. You forget faces, you forget the sounds of voices. I haven't forgotten him. It's just blurred, because I'm crying right now. I suppose, this is what the song meant, by saying love is a cold and broken hallelujah. That there comes a time, when you have to say goodbye, when it ends, and all you have are the memories. The memories, that once filled you with so many pleasurable emotions, now stand sad, and empty within your mind. I can cry, I can cry all night, but no one will see me. No one will hear me. Because my cry is quiet. It's silent, loud only within my own mind. Only I can hear it, feel it, because it's the kind of sad that makes a good story to tell when you're old. The kind of sad, that when you think of it as you sit ripe with old age, brings a young spark in your eyes. The kind of sad, where…it hurts so much, the best you can do, is simply walk away. Just walk, and never tell anyone in the world how much it hurts you. Never open up, and have someone listen, to the one amazing love you had, and how you lost it. Never admit, that you were ever so vulnerable. I never spoke to anyone about him, really. Except Gob and a scattered very few around the Capital Wasteland. No one, no one in New Vegas heard a thing about him. They never knew, that this cold and vicious attractive young girl, who walked with an air of confidence, and could shoot better than any man around, was at one point so vulnerable. Sometimes…sometimes I don't even know that I was. All I do now, all I can do, what I have to do, is pretend that it never bothered me. Wiping my face dry, I take one last look at the stars, and turn my back to walk inside the common house.

By the time I get up to our bed, Zack is peacefully sleeping in his. Gob's reading an old, pre-war book. He's sitting up in our bed, a blanket warmly covering his lower half. He looks up when he hears me kicking off my boots.

"How were they tonight?"

Gob asks, and I throw him a look of confusion as I pull my top off, revealing the white tank I wear.

"How was what?"

"The stars."

"Oh, oh yeah. They were good."

Sitting on the bed, I make a small pile beneath it. Boots, top, belt, gun, pants. It's getting colder, and I think that I need to invest in some warmer sleepwear.

"I think the fogs are being brought on by the pure water."

Gob tells me, placing his book on the floor. He turns down one side of the blanket, so that I can crawl in beside him. I do, and rest my weary head on an old pillow.

"What do you mean?"

"The world is changin' Dez. Now that there's clean water, who knows what's gonna to happen?"

"Shouldn't it already have happened?"

"It takes time, Dez, you should know this."

"Well, yeah but…okay I guess you're right. So fog, huh? What next?"

"Dunno, maybe rain? Maybe some good soil to plant in? Figure pretty soon there'll be less and less radiation, and maybe the world will come back. Ain't gonna hold my breath though, still got tons of radiation out there."

"I like the radiation."

I state, yawning.

"Yeah an' I do too, but it ain't forever. Ghouls are a dyin' race as is, and I ain't sure if the population of us cares or not that one day, we're all gonna be dead."

"Ghouls don't _need_ radiation to survive, though."

"No, no we don't. It helps though I mean, when you get hurt don't you go runnin' into a puddle of irradiated water?"

"Yeah."

Gob shrugs his shoulders, showing me he has a point.

"Well alright then. Havin' it when you're a ghoul or like you an' Zack makes life easier. Everyone's pretty much adjusted to livin' with it, can't eat nothin' out here without tastin' it and shit if people aren't tolerant to it by now. Jus' can't figure if it's gonna be a bad or good thing when it all goes away."

"So…if all the radiation goes away, the world can be all…brought back?"

"Figure that would be the case."

I cock an eyebrow at Gob. Why argue the world getting better?

"Isn't that _why_ I started the Purifier? To bring the world back for people?"

"Yeah I figure that's why you did it. Jus' been thinkin' is all. World's been fine with the radiation, people are livin' and shit. Gotta wonder if the change'll be good though."

"It takes time you said. It'll take a _long_ time before we see grass on this dirt. Maybe centuries."

Gob smiles and nods. He lays down next to me, putting an arm across my stomach.

"Yeah, suppose you're right kid. I shouldn't be worryin' about it."

He shouldn't be. He shouldn't be making me double-think my actions, either. Trust me, if I knew people ,might be regretting me starting the Purifier back when I was actually doing it, do you think I would have risked my life? Oh hell no.

"Yeah, you shouldn't be."

I snap back, maybe meaner than I had initially intended. Gob doesn't say anything, and neither do I. Nothing needs to be said, nothing to say. My past hangs over me, it always has. In some form or way or other, it's always there, in the back of my mind. Some philosophical person might say that the past makes us who we are today, and that if it wasn't for all the bad things, we wouldn't turn out as 'us'. I guess that person could be right, and in some cases is, but I don't think that relates much to me.

My past happened, because I made it happen. No higher forces were guiding me, or sending me signals from above. It just was. I know now, and I knew this in New Vegas, that if it wasn't for him, I would have stayed the same. Let me use an example.

In New Vegas, I got there, and became the old Dezbe. The one who I was when I came out of the vault. Reckless, uncaring, dangerous, impulsive and snide. I had flings and I had drugs. There wasn't anything much deeper than that. I thought one night while I was out there, just as I'm thinking right now, about all of it and my past. I realized then, that I'd have continued to be the same and perhaps not even started the Purifier, if it wasn't for him.

Him. Yes, him. I say that with confidence, because I know myself. I know the old Dezbe better than anyone else in the world. Eventually, in his absence, she'll come out again. Or maybe not, I'm not sure yet. The thing is, was, is? That made me change so much, and made me understand the important things, is back then I didn't have anyone. When I did, that's what made me stop and think. For the first time in my life, in my existence since I was born, someone loved me. It didn't start out as love, it didn't blossom into that until much later. For him, anyways, but I had someone. Someone to protect me, to care for me, even if it was just for a job in the beginning. None of that mattered. I mean, it did, and it bothered me, but after a time and when things began to unfold and develop, I realized that having someone care about you, means in turn you can't be so selfish.

In his own arrogant way, he taught me that. He didn't know it back then, and probably doesn't now, but everything I've learned, was from him. How to care and how to stop everything at the drop of a cap, for someone else. I never knew that people are driven to do such insane things, by a simple emotion. Never knew, that because of those emotions, most people have died. I always thought love was something overrated and not my style. But…when I found myself begging him to kill me beneath the broken highway one hot day, I realized something. Somewhere, in his mind, he cared. And somewhere, deep down in mine, I cared, too.

You can't thank someone for giving you that. You can't tell them they've opened your eyes and not you're able to see the world in an entirely new set of light. As if the rose-colored glasses I was wearing had suddenly fallen off. When he saved me from the crumbling of the rubble, I'd never felt such a strong wave of emotions. I never saw the world that way. Back then, if you'd asked me for anything, I'd spit in your face and say no. Now…now I don't think I could turn down anyone when they ask me for help. All because of him. Because now when I see someone, I remember that somewhere in this world, someone loves them. Someone, feels the same way about them, as I do about him. Taking that love and those emotions from someone is too cruel, even for me. I never want another human being, to feel and experience a fraction of what I have. It's too painful, too hurting, too everything. If you've ever been left by someone you loved, or left that loved one behind, you understand, and you know. It hurts, and every day, although the pain does fade, it still makes you feel just a bit dead inside. Just a bit, though, not all the way. Just a bit.


	5. Supergirls Just Fly

When I wake up the next morning, Gob isn't there, and neither is Zack. This isn't really that uncommon. I have a tendency to oversleep. Since I've stopped keeping track of time, though, my Pip-Boy has been collecting a lot of dust. I actually have been thinking of getting it removed, but, it's the only thing I really have left of myself that's really mine. Shaking my head, I sit up and look around. It's all the same, just as it has been since we got here, and just as it was when I first arrived here. Nothing big. Same shit, different day.

Grabbing my clothes beneath my bed, I begin to dress. Usually, I'd go to the saloon, have a drink, find Gob and help him out, and then hang around Megaton until the sun goes down. Then, I'd do it all again the next day. But today is different. Today, I feel like finishing my custom gun, and trying it out. There's only a few small bits and pieces left for me to fix on it, and adjust, so a couple hours hanging out with Gob at Moria's won't really hurt much. Gob's always there, you know. At Moria's. I'm not jealous of it or anything, I'm just saying he's so obsessed with his hobbies you'd think it was like his job or something. A job he doesn't get paid for, though.

No one pays me much attention as I walk down the stairs and head out the door. There's too many in-and-out travelers to really notice my extended stay. A week or two goes by, and the familiar faces I see every morning are usually gone, and replaced with new ones. Not that I mind or anything like that, it's a nice change. After all, I'm sure eyebrows would raise if they stayed. Wondering who the girl is, that sleeps upstairs with the ghoul and the human child. A lot of people around here remember Gob, and remember Nova. Those who've cared enough to stick around, anyways. Often, they welcome Zack with open arms, but more often than not they don't believe he's Gob's son. I guess the whole 'ghouls infertile' thing really brainwashed people. Not that it's not true, but hasn't anyone heard of miracles?

Making my way down the steep dirt and wood steps, I look around. I can tell it's morning, by the sun and all. What I can't tell if it's ten o' clock, or noon. It's gotta be close to noon though, since the sun is pretty high up there. Gob thinks I need to learn to keep track of time. I always argue that time is only needed, when there's appointments and limits. As of right now, I have neither one of those things, and certainly am not traveling anywhere. Time right now, means next to nothing to me.

I make it up to Moria's with no one talking to me. Not unusual, no one really wants to talk to me anyways. It doesn't bother me, either. I just like the solitude. Just as I suspected, Gob's behind the shop, playing with Zack and working on his moto-cycle. I linger against the building in the shade against the wall for a while, just watching them. They're perfect, you know. When you look at them, and see them interacting and playing, you just know that he's the dad, and Zack's the son. There's no doubt in my mind about that. It's peaceful and almost calming and a bit humbling, just to watch them play. They fit here, you know. They fit in Megaton. Against the backdrop here, the steel walls higher than anything I've seen before, Gob and Zack seem like the poster family for this place. As if to say 'Come one, come all, everyone is welcome'. I can picture that slogan, beneath Gob and Zack as they cling to each other and smiling. They're perfect for here, but I'm not. I'm not.

Gob notices me after a few minutes. He looks up from playing with Zack and smiles at me. A big, toothy smile. Almost like he's genuinely happy to see me. I shouldn't say that. Gob's always happy to see me. Be it at some odd hours of the night, or broken and bloodied from a battle, he's always been happy to see me. I return the smile, but not as enthusiastic. I just don't feel too bright and chipper these days.

"Hey you."

Gob says, walking towards me. He kisses me, hidden in the shadow of the steel building. His lips are soft, but there's a taste to them that in the back of my mind, I can't seem to pin it or get over it.

"Hey."

I reply as we part. Gob takes my hand, and holds it limply in his.

"What's up? Usually you're up at the saloon."

When he looks in the direction of the old building, I see a twinge of pain in his eyes. He's remembering a better time, a better life.

"Figured I'd change things up and come down here. I want to finish my gun and try it out today."

"You're leaving Megaton?"

Gob's tone is dangerous. A mixture of worry, concern, and surprise. I'm not sure where all that comes from, he's certainly not attached to me that much. I raise an eyebrow, and smirk.

"No, no I'm not. I just want to get out of the town for a while and shoot off some nearby baddies."

Gob sighs, nodding and a smile replaces his worry.

"I gotcha kid. But there ain't much else to be shootin' at. Aren't you worried the Outcasts might see you?"

"If there in the area, I'll see them first. Got my handy-dandy Pip-Boy to make sure of that."

"How's that work?"

"When a baddie is around, the tick marks on the compass indicating where people are turn red. Not sure how it works _exactly_, but it's never really failed me."

"Alright kid, just…be careful. Can't have you gettin' yourself in trouble now."

"Yeah there's no one here to save me these days."

It comes out before I can stop it. The filter between what I should say, and what I want to say, isn't really turned on in the mornings. My eyes catch Gob, and thankfully, he doesn't seem to upset at what I said. Still, I didn't mean to say it like that, I didn't mean to make him feel inadequate. But let's face it, if the Outcasts or whomever gets me, do you really think Gob's gonna bust in there, gun in hand, ready to kick ass? No, I didn't think so.

"You can save yourself just fine, kid."

I'm a bit caught off guard by what he says, but I ignore it. Simply shrugging, I let him stand beside me, our fingers laced. They don't fit together too well, but for now, it works fine. After all, I'm not being picky and a small comfort like this is hard to come by. I appreciate him for it.

"Yeah, yeah I know."

He squeezes my hand in his, and we watch as Zack struggles to make a castle out of dirt. He laughs and I smile, when he gets frustrated with it when it falls over. A warm breeze brushes my long hair from my face, and an idea sparks me. Figure soon, not too soon, but in a few months, I'm going to leave Megaton. On what adventure, I don't know. I just know I can't sit around for very long, and when that time comes and I decide to leave, I don't want my hair getting in the way.

"I'm thinking of cutting my hair."

I tell Gob, and he looks at me.

"Yeah? How short you thinkin'?"

"Pretty short, I guess."

"Why's that?"

I don't have the heart or mind to tell him that eventually, I'm leaving. He knows, and I know, and it's a silent understanding between us. Eventually, the call of the Capital Wasteland and what lies beyond will beckon, and loyally, I'll follow it. There's a whole world out there, and a whole slew of trouble waiting for me to start it. See, that's the old Dezbe talking, and that's the Dezbe I'll wake up and listen to one day.

"Need a change, I guess."

Gob squeezes my hand, and kisses my cheek. My skin is cold even though the day is hot. I'm not sure why that is, but I guess my body just hasn't adjusted to the outside temperature yet.

"Well, you go in there and do what you gotta do. I'm gonna stay out here an' work on my shit an' play with the kid."

"I won't be long. When I'm done, want to take Zack outside the gates?"

"As much as I trust you to keep us safe kid, I'm gonna say no. Ain't no place for us out there, we're better off in here."

"Yeah, yeah I understand."

We kiss as I begin to head inside. Gob's right. Even if I am going to go out there on a killing-spree and come back within the hour, it's not the place for him. Him and Zack, they belong here. Maybe when Zack's older, he'll want to adventure out and see the world just like I do and did. But that's a long way from now. Looking back, though, you don't know how fast time flies until you sit and remember all the moments and instances that have happened years ago. When you do, all you can think is, 'Where did the time go?'. Unless that is, you're on Jet. Because time stops on that shit. You can be going a mile a minute but when you pause and look at the time, thinking it's been hours, just mere moments have passed. I miss Jet.

Heading inside, I go straight to the workbench Moria had set up for me. I pay no mind to the new mercenary in the corner, nor do I care for Moria's loud voice in the other room. I just want to sit, and tinker, and watch as the world flows around me. Well, I won't be watching it, but I guess you know what I mean. Sitting down, I let the world around me slip away, and I focus on the task at hand. Nothing at this moment, matters to me. I just let my mind wander, as my hands mechanically work in front of me. When my mind wanders, though, sometimes it goes to dangerous places.

I have to blink constantly. I have to blink, because if I don't, the tears in my eyes will fall on the table, and I won't be able to stop them. So I force them back by blinking as fast and as hard as I can. My mind took me to a dangerous place. A place that I try not to think about too often. Out in the Capital Wasteland, some six or so years ago, the night was cold. If there wasn't a fire, there was the shelter of an old establishment. Be it a home, a place of business, or a shack. On those cold, quiet nights, my mind reminds me of the steady pace of his breathing. The warmth of his body close to, or pressed against my own. When I try to think of other things, I can't. There isn't much that happened to me, before he came into my life. Nothing significant, nothing important. Just him, and when he came, it started something unstoppable.

The time in the vault, those memories are old and cobwebbed. They don't mean anything to me anymore. Amata, Butch, the Tunnel Snakes, all a big, fat joke really. Once I was able to get outside the vault, I saw how it all didn't matter. In the big picture of life, vault-living isn't the way to go. I had never seen the sun or moon, clouds or stars before then. It was utterly breathtaking, my first night out in the Capital Wasteland, to look up and see the stars. Me, by a pitiful fire in the middle of nowhere, with a dingy ol' pistol clutched in my hand, as I waited and listened for dangers, looked up at the stars, and had my breath taken away. That's one of my fonder memories. At the time I was stricken with fear and wanting to cry my eyes out, but looking back I realize how beautiful it all was, and how awestruck it made me. At first, I thought someone somewhere had just turned the sun off. Then my logical mind got the better of me, and I remembered that even though the Great War had come and gone, the earth still rotated around the sun.

You know, I didn't come out of the vault all pissed off. I mean, I was because it's who I am, but being out in the Capital Wasteland all on my own didn't do much against fueling that. After so many instances where people I'd gone out of my way to help fucked me over, and nearby people who _could_ help me in dire times didn't, I just got angry. I stopped caring. I forced myself to not care in the beginning, but after a while, it simply became me.

Nights alone I spent, wandering aimlessly, learning how to use different guns and trying out different foods all while manically talking to myself. I'd curl up by a fire I'd struggled to create, most times there wasn't a fire because I can't make them too well, and I'd force away tears that were dying to come out. There were nights when even I'd pray for the Yao Guai to eat me, and even closer than that were the nights I had the balls to press my gun against my head. I just never had the balls to squeeze the trigger.

When the sun would rise, and the morning warmth would wake me, I'd pick myself up off the hard ground and start walking again. Since I had no pack, or very little in it, there wasn't much to gather or grab. My mind would collect itself after a few yards of stumbling in sleepiness, and my body would slowly un-stiffen itself from the night on the hard ground. Eventually, you get use to sleeping like that, though. It took me a bit to, but I realized that when I did get use to it, I'd look forward to pulling up a nice piece of dirt after a long day.

I'm still not sure to this day, where I was heading back then. Not sure if I was going somewhere on purpose, or aimlessly walking in one, big, circle. Of course, I had my place in Megaton back then to return to, but it never called to me. Never really had the want or need to return to it, and I simply kept on going. If I was lucky, I'd find an old mat tucked away somewhere, and I'd make do with that. You always sleep with one eye open when you're alone in the Capital Wasteland, though. And I didn't like the dark too well back then. Sometimes, I'd opt to sleep in the sewers with the Mirelurks than out on the dry ground in the dark. The Mirelurks never bothered me much, though. Never really saw me, actually. I'm good at folding my body into small, cramped spaces, and when you live out here, sleeping anywhere in any position is quite possible.

I try to hold on to those memories. Those memories of a time, when I was simply me, simply wandering. I'm not sure why, but I feel they're important. After losing my mind, and then gaining it all back again, I feel I appreciate my memoires much more now than I ever have before. Absentmindedly, I scratch the old, white scar where the bullet struck me. A smirk falls over my face, and I sigh with a bit of nostalgia. I've been through, and endured, more things than anyone else. Survived against all odds, and pulling through when all hope was virtually lost. I pride myself on that these days. When old members of Megaton look at me, and recognize me, and they walk by sneering. I remind myself of all I've gone through, and all I've lived through. It makes the pain dimmer, and makes me feel better somehow. After all, you do get slightly cocky when you know you can take a bullet to the brain and live. Or watch, as the one you love lies in a pool of blood. I feel now, I can take on almost anything, and it wouldn't really shock me much.

I can't say nothing won't ever shock me again, though. His leaving did. It hurt. It hurt…so much. I listened to his padding, rhythmic footsteps, as he walked away. Until I couldn't hear them anymore. It was the last time I found rhythm in anything. I crumpled to the ground, overcome by sheer pain, agony, and the will to live completely leaving me. It's not that I need him to live, it's just after so long, he's become a part of me. Or rather, became. When you're with someone twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, without a solid break in between, and enjoying each and every moment no matter how big or small, you tend to grow on one another. That person, tends to become as important to you as your brain or heart. When they hurt, you hurt, and you can feel it together. When they laugh, you laugh, and you laugh together. When I listened to him walk away, without words or explanation, I felt I was losing a part of myself. The stronger, braver, smarter, tougher part that I could never fully live up to. He was my exact opposite, but in the same way, my exact copy. We would fight, and cruelly trick one another into being annoyed or angered. He tricked me into telling him a bit of my past, and I in turn tricked him into saving my life even when I didn't need him to save me. I made him feel welcome, loved, cared for. In a world where no one would even look his way, I offered him my hand with a smile, and said 'Teach me'. Pretending not to know the most basic of survival techniques, I made him feel important and useful by doing them or showing them to me. Together, we annoyed one another to wits end.

I smile now, at those petty little fights. Given the chance, I'm sure we'd still have them together. The one I remember most vividly, was when we were walking to Smith Casey's or some other odd garage. It was to find my dad. We sexually indirectly, directly, tortured one another. Of course back then neither one of us would admit what we were feeling, and I'm sure he was unsure of all those tingling sensations. Hey, he teased me, and I took my top off. I don't see any harm in that. We were always doing that to one another. Bickering, arguing, seeing who was wittier than whom. I miss those days, those now seemingly carefree and fun days. I'd go back and relive them all again, all again, if I could.

I guess it's no use to me now though, to live in the past. As fun as it was, as comforting and trivial as it may all be, it's over. The past is what's happened, the present is right now, and the future is an hour away. It serves me no good, and certainly doesn't help my situation, to sit here and allow my mind to wander off into better days. If I stick with living in the past, well, then I'll never really have a future. Never get the chance to move on, if I'm still clinging to what was. Moving on, it's easier said than done. When you want to go back to something so badly, when you want to feel the way you did back then, it's hard to feel bright about anything upcoming. I have doubts, that anyone could compare to him. I don't think or believe anyone will ever make me feel the way he did, or hold me as securely, or save me from the outward dangers as well as the inward. It's just a matter of time, now, before the old Dezbe reclaims her rightful place in my mind, and before I leave here with gun in hand and nothing more than a few casings of ammo. As if soon, I'll mirror my first steps out of the vault.

Only…only this time there'll be differences. I won't feel so alone again. Because I know now, if I can't rely on anyone else, I can always rely on myself. Trouble, mayhem, it doesn't matter. What needs to happen will happen, and there's nothing really I can do to prevent that. I won't be stepping out of the vault as a naïve, young, and misguided person, no. I'll be stepping out of Megaton as a grown, well-rounded, well-educated woman. I'm a woman now, no longer a girl. A woman, and like all women, I understand things in a way that can't fully be described. I accept now, events and upcoming events. I understand certain things are beyond my control. And…above all else, I understand the power a woman's comforting smile and hug can do to people. Mothers are women, and in the heat of battle, when you lie wounded and the blood is seeping from between your tightly-clenched fingers, who do you call to? Mother. A woman. I feel I have a job now, though I'm unsure what that job is really. I just have to do something. I don't know what it is, or where I'll go with it, I just know I have to get there and do it. After that…after that I can't say much.

Finishing up my gun, I stand up and step back from the workbench. I admire my accomplishment in my hand, and smile a smile that shouts of how proud I am. Of course, I could have done something wrong and then this thing will blow up right in my face but, for now, I won't worry about that. If it happens, it happens and I'll find some puddle to lie in and deal with the pain. The sawed-off is shiny, my hands rubbing it carefully with an old cloth helped bring out the shine. It almost looks new. Almost. There's still obvious dents and scratches and evidence of old age, but hey, it's better than most things out there. Looking around Moria's I discover the mercenary is gone, and the noise of Moria's voice has vanished as well. How long had I been working on the gun? Minutes, hours? Who knows? I particularly don't care much, and I still keep the proud smile displayed on my face as I make my way out to see Gob.

He's still right where I left him. Zack takes a nap in the bright sunlight, curled up in a small hole he had dug. Gob works hard on his moto-cycle, and doesn't notice me standing behind him.

"Hey!"

I shout loudly, enthusiastically. Gob jumps a mile in the air and my smile grows wider. He turns to face me, humored and relieved.

"Damn kid! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

I shrug it off, and show him my finished gun.

"Sure you don't wanna come and test it with me? Could be fun…"

I wink at him, but Gob shakes his head. He doesn't take much interest in my gun, he never really liked guns anyways.

"Naw I tol' you kid, I'm stayin' right here. Go an' have your fun, jus' don't get into too much trouble."

"I'll be back before dark."

"Yeah, yeah."

He kisses me and smiles. Gob knows I'm not running off right now. He knows the day will come when I do, but he also knows it's not right now. I trot away, leaving him to his project just as he left me to mine. We live basically very separate lives, and only really come together at night in bed. We cuddle, we make-out, but we don't have sex. To be honest, I don't think he really wants it of me. I think, like me, he just finds enjoyment in the simple comfort of having someone beside him.

Pushing through the gates, I'm instantly greeted by a face-full of dirt. The wind is a bit stronger out here, and it's been so long since I've stepped out in the day, I've kinda forgotten what it's like. Still, an old enjoyment comes from peering out down the slope and into the vastness of the great beyond. Not too far from my limit of sight, a group of Raiders yells and berates one another playfully. Oh, how perfect. I didn't even have to go far, to find what I was looking for. Quickly, I load the shells into my gun. I couldn't do much to help the ammo capacity of this weapon, but I tried. The most I realized I could get was three without risking anything. Four would have blown up right in my face.

Snapping it shut I slide myself down the slight hill. It's been so long since I've ventured out, since I've felt the old, familiar thrill of the hunt and kill. I've forgotten it, and I realize how badly I miss it. Although most of the recent time I've spent out here before coming back from Megaton, the time before that when I was nineteen and young and free, was probably the best part of my life. The hunt, the kill, the late nights and unknowing if you're going to have to wakeup in the middle of a dead sleep to fight off a Deathclaw. That rush of adrenaline, and feel of being alive, is what I've been missing lately.

I don't bother to hide from the Raiders. I don't really care if they see me or not. I was able to somewhat fix the range on the gun, too. I can get more than three feet now, if that's any use. We'll see how it works, and hopefully, live to tell about it. Of course when the Raiders see me, they start their usual pattern of charging in with melee weapons while someone else hangs behind with a puny SMG or other. All I can do, is stand and smirk, waiting with my loaded gun.

A Raider girl comes into my range first. She has a piece of wood. I don't hesitate to shoot, hardly even taking aim. When I see the blood, and hear her cry of pain throughout the Capital Wasteland, I feel it. I feel the rush of my own blood pumping through my veins, my body forcing itself into the 'flight or fight' mode, and all the pleasures that come along with it. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I once did way back in yesteryears.

She falls, crippled in pain. Her leg is partly off as she screams and shouts. Her friend, a male, comes at me with a sledgehammer. I take a quick aim and he's down beside her. Then the part I don't like very much comes. The part where the person with the gun hits me. I feel the bullet lodge itself into my upper arm, and the sensation of burning and agonizing pain rips through me. It doesn't stop me, but instead just makes me march towards him, my finger mercilessly squeezing the trigger. After one shot though, my gun clicks a few times to tell me it's empty. Painfully, I grab a handful of shells and pop them back in.

By the time I close my gun the last Raider is on top of me. He charges, taking aim and I can see his finger about to squeeze the trigger. But I'm faster, and charged with the sensations and feelings of when I was a lot younger. If I didn't die by the hands of the Brotherhood, the Enclave, the Talons and the Outcasts, what makes him think I'll die by his hand? I raise my gun and predict his next step in his 'back-and-forth' movement. I'm right, and my bullet hits him square in the torso. My Pip-Boy tells me he's crippled. I don't need my Pip-Boy to tell me that, though. The sight of him falling, withering on the ground in pain as blood pools around him, is enough proof for me.

"You bitch!"

He screams, and I laugh. I _laugh_. I haven't felt this good since…well…since forever I guess. It's not that I _like_ killing, it's just that I like the feel of being powerful. I guess playing God and being able to finish or create something is what I get enjoyment out of. I always have. I like the feel of a battle, the thudding heart in your throat. It's something nothing else to compare to, and out here you kind of have to enjoy what you have to do. Or else you'll die and that sucks.

Finishing him and his friends off, I dig into my pocket and get a cigarette. As I light it, with my gun holstered, I examine the wound on my upper left arm. It ripped through the sleeve of my Merc Adventurer Outfit, and soaked the fabric in blood. The blood that didn't get soaped up is dripping down my arm. It hurts to move my fingers and wrist, but it's a tolerable pain. I've felt worse before, obviously. A quick dip in some radiation and it'll be good as new.

But…but as I look at it, and watch the blood drip out, and feel the bullet beneath my skin, I realize…a part of me doesn't want it to be healed so quickly. Before I was immune to radiation, and gifted with the good half of ghoulification, I had to endure a lot of pain, worse than this, and still travel onwards. I think that having radiation so readily available, gives me a handicap. When I leave Megaton for good, I don't think I really want to rely on that right away. For a few weeks, or days at least, I want to remember what it was like to go wounded into battle, and feel the warmth of my own blood as I forced myself to keep walking. After a time, I guess you get nostalgic for everything, even the bad parts.

Flexing my arm, I make up my mind that the wound isn't life-threatening and will eventually make a decent scar. Dipping myself in radiation will decrease the scar tissue and make it near invisible. I'm adorned with scars and lacerations, they cover my body like stretch marks cover a woman after losing baby weight. I'm proud of them. I'm proud, to walk into the saloon and have the toughest men there get a glimpse of my diagonal facial scars, or a peek of the deep one that winds around my ribs from my back. It makes them cringe, and makes them wonder how exactly I got them. Most women would find these unattractive. The ones like Lily who parade around in 'clean' pre-war clothes and immortalize their lives on being beautiful, hate how I look. Me? I'm undeniably proud. Each scar tells a different story, of a different time, a different place, and a different fight. They're like pictures, but only I can truly see the images they show.

Like the one on my abdomen, right near my stomach. I got that one from Fort Constantine, escaping it with him in-toe. I had to be bandaged and wrapped up, but I kept going. That battle, one of my first serious ones, holds a real special place in my heart. Just like the welts on my neck and thigh do. It was a time when he and I were new in our relationship. The waters were tested, the loyalties on-guard. I think, that if the Talons never happened, he and I would have turned out in very different situations.

Or the one that binds around my back and twists up my ribs. If you touch it, even if you just look at it, the grove in where it is shows how deep it travels. I can smooth my hand across my waist, but find a canyon where that scar is. It dips in, the skin not really healing properly, and comes back out like the way Megaton is built. A hole had to be dug in the middle to fit everything, and the scar is just the same. The pain I endured with that scar was by far one of the worst pains I've felt. But it means something. It means under the worst of conditions, I can survive. Anyone else would have died there, at the bottom of The Hole. Their body, like mine was, would have been nearly in half, with blood covering a yard or so around them. I didn't die. Instead, I remembered the image of him as I left for The Pitt in the tunnel. His voice echoing down that he would be in Underworld, waiting for me. I had to pick myself up, I had to keep going.

There is no Underworld now, but where it once stood is still a very special place. I want to go there when I leave Megaton, for simple nostalgic value. I already visited there first, when I returned from New Vegas, but I want to go again. I want to see Vault 101 again, and relive almost, important moments in my life. I'm not sure if anyone's still alive in Vault 101. By now, I'm thinking the rations ran out, and the supplies are all gone. I can't imagine anyone actually still living in there, but there's a possibility. It was the most well-protected vault built, so the threat of Super Mutants finding their way in is pretty slim. Worse to worse, the bodies of my old comrades will be laying there, dead. Best-case scenario is that some people are still alive, and will see me for the last time. Truthfully, though, I don't want them to see me. I don't want to face Amata and her followers. I helped them, and they didn't give two flying fucks. Just sent me on my way and continued on as if nothing had ever happened. Yeah, sorry about running after my dad, but your dad was kind of going to kill me. An eye for an eye, right?

Inhaling the smoke on my cigarette, I look around. There's nothing for miles and miles. The last remains of the highways are starting to crumble, and the Washington Monument is as far away from me as it was when I came out of the vault. It's still welcoming, though. Just like it was when I came back from New Vegas. The only real landmark, you can see from almost any point in the Capital Wasteland. I smile at it, as I turn to look in the direction of the Super Duper Mart. By now, I'm sure if I went inside there the walls would fall in on me, but it's nice to simply stand in its direction and remember the incidents and fights that went on there. Five years is a long time, I knew that when I came back. I was just happy, though, to see everything almost as how I'd left it. Minor changes are almost impossible to avoid but…it's still nice to come home.

I feel my blood in the palm of my hand as I stand in the wind, the dead Raiders around me as if they're a warning. Smoking the last bit of the cigarette I have left, I toss it to the ground and put it out with my boot. My hair flies in wild directions, and with my good arm I smooth it back down. The sun is hot, I feel the blood drying on my arm, but still moist where the wound is. The pain is a reminder to me, of what I use to be. What I still want to be. What I know I'll become in due time.

It's scary, really, to stand here all alone again. I have to keep reminding myself I started out here alone, left here alone, and came back alone. That it's not the first time I've been somewhere or done something without the aid of someone else. I just have to get use to that again. I have to be careful, not to take on what I can't handle. There won't be someone guiding me, protecting me, and following me into a fight this time. It'll be me, and I have to learn that fast or end up like the Raiders around me. I don't think I want that just yet. I know, though, that when the time comes for me to set off again, I'll have learned and know what I can and cannot do to myself. Just like I learned the last time, and the time before that. This time, I won't be so foolish.


	6. Here I Am, I'm Trying

I end up staying on the outskirts of Megaton until nightfall. I told Gob I'd be back by then, but I figure he'll manage without me for a bit longer. After all, with the moon so bright and overshadowing, who wants to walk into an enclosed space? For now, right now, I have the stars above me. Today was productive. I killed a few more Raiders, and attacked a wandering caravan. Sure that wasn't very nice of me, but I wanted to do something mean and rebellious again. I got some more ammo, and a hefty sum of caps for it. Plus, I got to eat some Sugar Bombs, and I like Sugar Bombs. He didn't really have much, but the mercenary chick he was with had the same outfit as me. I took her shirt because mine was ripped.

Now I sit in the dark, on the hard dirt, staring up at the sky. The atmosphere around me is heavy, filled with remembrances and moments of the past that mirror this. I see a shooting star, and I make a wish. I watch the night turn the color of the setting sun, to the deepest black, and I don't mind the silence too bad. But when my fingers dig into the hard ground, picking up dirt beneath my nails, I feel sad. I want to sit here, all night, in hopes that…well…I can't hope anymore. It's about time I close that chapter of my life. But I can't help…but feel a bit alone, and think of him as many times as I blink.

Off in the distance, my mind and eyes play tricks on me. I keep thinking I see him, walking towards me on the horizon. But I know it's untrue. I know it isn't him, because when I stop and really focus, he vanishes right before my eyes. Before I can stop them, I can taste tears on my lips. Today, I felt young again. I felt the power and fulfillment that comes with fighting, and the pain that comes with being wounded. At the end of it all, at the end of the day, I didn't feel the fulfillment of accomplishment. I can't do much now, but just wish that he was here. Here, to talk with me about today's events, and share the same enthusiasm. Or add some sarcastic wit and comments, to my own delirious commentary and ideas. Puckering my lips, I close my eyes and pretend to kiss the stars.

I can't sit here forever, but I want to. So badly, I just simply want to. Folding my legs under me, I hurt my neck by craning it so far upwards towards the sky. This…this isn't the life I had planned for myself. Of course, I don't know what life I saw myself having, but this isn't it. Looking down at my hands, to give my neck a rest, I feel sad. My palms catch the tears, and for an instance, I forget why I'm crying. There's so many different reasons, that I forget which particular one makes me feel so alone. I stare down at my curled fingers, the hard, cracked skin of the creases, and the dirty fingernails. Placing them together, I try and force them to fit. If they do, it means that…I can rely on myself now. Just like I did so many years ago. But they don't fit, and so many years ago, emotions like this were nonexistent. A part of me, curses him, for opening up so many unwanted windows and opportunities. I feel sometimes, I would have been better off being arrogant and naïve. I don't know why. Maybe because…it would have been easier, to do what I'm about to do now.

Standing up, I make the choice. I make my mind up, as I stare up at the stars. It's time, now or never, and I have to finalize it. The past, it's the past. What's happened, has happened. I have no explanation for why he left, I can't tell you there's an intricate and detailed story, because I don't know. What I do know is, that it's over. We can't keep these games, can't keep going on about this, for the rest of our lives. Coming, going, leaving, parting, eventually enough is enough. Right now, it's enough for me. I have someone now, someone with me to comfort me, and ease the pain of loneliness until I can confidently stand on my own. When I can, I know I'll leave here, and a brand new chapter of my life awaits. If I spend my time crying about the past, I'm wasting it. Wasting the chance to start anew, wasting the time I did spend with him, and did share and laugh and love. I'm glad it happened, and happy that I was part of a lucky few who were able to find such a powerful emotion in their life. Most…most never find it at all.

Walking back to the gates of Megaton, I rehearse what it is that I'm going to tell Gob. I've never really thought about ever saying these types of words to him, I've always simply seen him as my friend. But things change, people change, lives take unexpected turns. It's what life is all about, right? The unknowing, the knowing, the not knowing, the going and diving right in. I'm excited for it, for what tomorrow has, and I'm excited for whatever may come my way now.

When I step into Megaton, slipping through the heavy gates, I jump back in surprise.

"Gob!"

I say, shocked and surprised. I hadn't really expected to see him. Figured he'd be up in the common house with Zack. In the ball-lighting of Megaton, Gob gives me an unsure smile.

"I uh, thought you got into some trouble. Wanted to make sure you were alright and all."

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, and I smile at him. I really smile. He smiles back, when his eyes fixate on my face.

"I have to say something."

I say before he can even think. Gob straightens his back, like he's preparing himself for the worst. He doesn't say anything, just blinks nervously and looks at me.

"I…I appreciate you, Gob. I…don't do this well, so bear with me. You were my first friend outside the vault, and you were always there to listen. I counted on you in a way, and you never let me down. You're my best friend. Even when you had nothing to do with anything, you'd offer help, even if you couldn't do much. I appreciate that. I appreciate…everything you've done."

Gob looks like he's just won a million caps. His eyes light up, and a small smile creeps across his face. It makes me smile, and blush a bit. To end the awkward silence, and seal a tender moment, I step forward. Pressing my lips against Gob's, I open his mouth with my tongue. We share something, beneath the moonlit night sky, and the shimmering lights of Megaton. A passionate kiss, with his arms wrapping around my waist, and my own around his neck. I keep my eyes closed, and for the first time since this started, I don't think of anyone else. Just him, is enough.

The kiss turns into more, as we lay on the bed in the common room. We share kisses in between removing our clothes. I'm nervous, but I know I want to. Gob looks nervous too, as he takes off the white shirt he's always seem to wear. I rub my hands up and down his chest, it's soft, rugged with skin and muscle. I don't compare or contrast him to anyone, I simply enjoy the feel of him, as we work to remove the rest of our clothes. Across the makeshift room we created upon arriving here, Zack sleeps, sheltered by a piece of steel. Gob notices the wound on my upper arm, it's angry, red and bruised presence. His fingertips lightly graze it as he kneels above me.

"What happened?"

He asks, concerned, worried.

"Just a flesh wound, I'm fine."

I stifle any more questions he may have with a kiss, as I tug him down on top of me. He drops the subject, and like me, enjoys the moment for what it is. I never would have imagined, someone like Gob could make a woman feel such pleasure. He just never seemed like the person to be able to. I guess, there's always room for surprises, though. The feel of his body pressed against mine, the sound of our heavy breathing in between kisses filled with comforting passion. We softly moan in pleasure, as his hands find mine, and the night continues on.


	7. Fools Suddenly Appear

(Gob)

She's sleepin'. I ain't gonna try an' wake her, neither. She hasn't slept this good since Charon left. She prolly don't know it, but she cries in her sleep, twitchin' and whimperin' like she's a damned beaten dog. But right now, she sleeps, and I can't. My mind is too busy, too fucked with the dangers and thoughts of the line I just crossed. Fuck. Rubbing my head with my hands, I slip my boxers on an' find my shirt. I won't bother to get fully dressed, jus' gonna go out for a quick smoke. I can smoke in here just the same, but I need air. I need to think about all of this.

It's different now, and I know I'm in for a shit-storm. Didn't really expect things to get serious like this, an' I certainly didn't think this would happen. Prolly shoulda stopped it, prolly shoulda said no and let her sleep an' whatnot, but I didn't. Prolly cuz, I wanted it just as bad as she did. Ain't gonna deny it no more. Havin' her cuddlin' up with me, kissin' me all the time, us pretending we're somethin' like a couple when we both pretend not to be on the side. It all happened so damn fast that I didn't think much of it. We were jus' sittin outside of Megaton, ya know? Jus' sittin' there and then next thing I know she's cryin' and upset and I'm comforting her and I jus' look in her eyes and damn. It was the only thing I could think of doin'. I jus' kissed her. Dunno why or where it came from, but at that moment, I wanted to save her.

Now it's jus' gone too far and created a mess. I know she didn't want me to be nothin' more than an object of infatuation. Even that might be pushin' it. But I can't help it. I got emotions jus' like the next guy and shit happened. I got attached. I ain't ever been with no one since Nova, and damned if I wasn't enjoyin' it with Dez but…what the _hell_ am I gonna do if Charon comes back? It's been…actually…wait. Lighting my cigarette, I pace around outside the common house. It's been, what? Three months now, yeah. That long. Three months. I dunno how I feel about this realization.

If he were comin' back, he would have by now. I know Charon, an' I know he wouldn't dare leave Dez alone for this long unless there was somethin' seriously up. But he hasn't been back. Not even a word from him. I'm thinkin' the worst. Honestly, I ain't too fond of my feelings towards it either. Charon's my friend and all, but a part of me is glad. Glad that now his return is slim, and that he might not be comin' back at all. Cuz now Dez can stay. I know she won't be stayin' here for long, it ain't in her blood to be cooped up, but while she's here, she'll be mine. Selfish as that sounds, in reality it ain't. I been by those two for as long as I can remember. Been hangin' around and hearin' of their tales and adventures. Charon's done enough to the damn girl. Dez prolly don't see it, or know it, but he's hurt her. An' a part of me…thinks it's gonna be good for Dez to get rid of him.

Not like I'm tryna trash talk my friend here, cuz I ain't. I'm jus' sayin' that maybe what Dez needs is stability and security. Her life has been one big mess of events and issues, and maybe she's gettin' too old to be doin' that. She ain't nineteen anymore, an' out here livin' past that is amazin'. But she did it. Went right up the number scale and hit twenty-five no problem. Not that she's old in a sense where she can't be doin' much but old in the sense where maybe, it's time for her to slow down. I know there's people after her and whatnot, but here, she's safe. I ain't like Charon, though. I can't fight an' protect her like he did, but I can hide her. I can keep her safe and secure, away from anyone who tries to hurt her. Plus, I'm a good worker. Can prolly take over the saloon somehow, and make a living there. There's a trapdoor in Moriarty's old office, an if it came down to it and the Outcasts came for her, she can hide down there. Ain't gonna see it unless you lookin' for it, anyways.

Shit. Me an' Dez. Never thought it would happen. Never gave it much thought. I told Charon I'd take care of her though, promised I'd sit back and make sure she stayed put. I did my part, I ain't feelin' like a failure. I jus' overdid it, is all. Dunno how I'm gonna explain myself, if and when he comes back. Jus' gonna have to jump off that bridge when I get to it. He ain't gonna take it lightly, neither. I know him, an' I know he truly cares about Dez. Maybe he'll see my side of things, though. Eh, I doubt that. He'll prolly skin me alive and hang me out to dry. Friends don't touch friend's girls. Unspoken rule, an' I broke it.

My bare feet dig in the dirt outside. It's a cool night, an' I like the breeze. Been a long time since I felt a nice breeze like this one. Figure soon, the world will be on it's way to normalcy again. Ain't sure how that's gonna go over with people but its gotta happen sometime. Still, I can't think of things like that right now. I'm too busy wonderin' about the right now and the what if's. If Charon is alive, an' he does get back here, I'm gonna have to keep him away from Dez. I'm gonna have to actually stand up to him, and prepare myself for the beating that'll come along with it. If I'm lucky, I'll live and Dez will stay. After all, I ain't told her nothin' about knowin' he was gonna leave. For all she knows, he left her for another woman. I'm glad I didn't open my damned mouth, either. If I had, we wouldn't be in this situation, and I want us to be. I care about the kid. I care about her and want to keep her safe. If I can, maybe I can even get some normalcy in her life. She won't be goin' for that much, but she'll have to one day. I know she's gonna wake up, and she's gonna realize runnin' around all half-naked isn't really her thing. It might take a while, but I figure it'll happen.

I toss out my cig, an' I'm about to go inside when I see somethin' far across the way. The Megaton gates opening. Ain't common for 'em to be opening this late, most wanderers don't see 'em in the dark. I decide to hang around, an' figure out who the hell would be comin' in at this hour. If I didn't know Dez was upstairs sleepin', I'd say it was her an' walk away. But it ain't her. I can't see who it is, but shit if I try. Have to. If it's the Outcasts, I gotta act fast. So I feel my heart all racin' and whatnot, preparing to go and drag Dez into the saloon if worse comes to worse. The figure walks down the slope, and comes into the light that's in the middle of the town. It ain't the Outcasts. It's fuckin' worse, and I nervously light another cigarette. Then I decide, that's one helluva bad idea. Before I can even taste the damn smoke in my throat, I toss it into the dirt and head right back on up to the damned makeshift room Dez an' I share.

She's sleepin' so damn peacefully when I get back, it's a shame to wake her. Shit, I almost don't wanna. But I know I gotta, or face some sorta wrath from someone or other. The thin white blanket covers her waist, as she sleeps on her side. Her damn perfect curves are highlighted by it, and by the shadows castin' over her from the half-lit common house. Her sun-tanned arm hangs over her midsection, an' her head is placed over her arm even though there's a pillow. Orange, brown an' red hair is sprawled all 'round her head an' it's all jus' a perfect sight. Even the way her breasts are layin' an' the way they look while she's on her side is damn beautiful. She's got these plump, peach-colored lips an' their puckered as if she's kissin' someone in her sleep. Long, dark eyelashes overlap with her eyes closed, an' small freckles are all over her nose an' inner cheeks. I can look past all them scars that litter her body, even the ones that accent her face. It ain't that their ugly to me, I think they're beautiful, because without 'em she wouldn't be who she is. When I look at her like this, with the world on a momentary pause, I feel I can watch her whole life's adventure unfolding right in front of me. All cuz of them scars. The one that winds, an' twists up her back, it's kinda almost like she got it on purpose, ya know? Cuz it just fits her body so damn perfect, an' all it really does is accent the way her hips and torso curves. She's jus' that damn beautiful.

But then reality hits me hard in the ass, an' I gotta focus. Ruinin' the damn perfect picture of the image of perfection in front of me, I put my ruined an' ghoulified hand on her shoulder. I shouldn't be allowed to even look at someone like her, let alone touch.

"Dez..Dezbe…"

I whisper an' shake her tryna get her to wake up. Figure by now she'd be one of them light sleepers that jump at every small move an' go for the gun that's always on their hip, but she ain't. Trust me, she's anything but.

"Dez…Dez c'mon you gotta wake up."

I say again, shakin' her a bit harder. She takes a deep breath in, sighin' but she ain't openin' her eyes.

"What Charon?"

She mutters, and it makes me freeze up inside. Didn't expect that to come outta her mouth. Somethin' in me breaks right then an' there. I guess it's what they call 'realization'. Ain't really never had one of them big moments, before now. But I figure, I figure it was all too damn good to be true. Takin' my hand off of her shoulder, I sigh an look at her. I was foolin' myself. Shoulda known that one right off the bat. People do crazy things sometimes though, an I sure as hell ain't no exception. Who was I to think that jus' cuz we slept together, meant I was supposed to be with her? Nobody, that's who. A guy like me can't come even an inch close to what a girl like Dez needs. I was jus' a big ol' fool.

Girl like Dez, Dez herself, she don't need someone like me. Hell, I know she ain't gonna stay here in Megaton much longer, an' bringin' someone like me along would jus' make things worse. Me an' Zack would hold her back, an' drag her down. I hoped she'd stay here, or at least come back when she was done fightin' off whatever she goes an' fights but, shit I was kiddin' myself in that view, too. I ain't meant to truly take care of Dez, I'm jus' the friend. The damned friend an' I was stupid to think otherwise. Can't follow her out there an' be savin' her from Deathclaws like Charon did. He's the type of guy she needs. Not a killer, not a mercenary, but a damn smart an' strong guy with a keen set of skills built for survivin' out there. I can't even shoot a damn pistol, let alone a shotgun or even a sniper gun. If she gets hurt, I ain't gonna know what to do sides stick her in radiation, and I ain't gonna be able to fight whatever she fights on my own. I'd jus' be relyin' on her to protect me, an' I don't think that would make me much of a man.

It's the right way. The way it's supposed to be. I ain't never gonna measure up to Charon, or mean as much to her as he does. I mean a lot to her, but in a different way. I'm their friend, and who was I to think that I coulda been more? Ain't no one. Ain't stinkin' no one. S'pose I could jus' be happy for 'em though. Ain't met no other couple, willin' to sacrifice so much for one another as they did. Charon went off, riskin' his own life countless times for the damn girl, and lord knows she's done the same. Been a fight their whole lives out here, to stay together, to start a romance. It was fun, while it lasted with her, but it ain't forever, and I shoulda known that. Least…though…she has someone who can keep her happy, an not have a single doubt in her mind bout how he may feel towards her. I'd give my life for a second, to feel that way.

"Hey, hey, kid."

I try again to rouse her, time ain't on my side an' I need her awake. Finally, her eyelids do a flutterin' kinda thing, and she opens 'em. She stares off at the wall she's layin' towards, and takes a second to get her mind back. When she turns to look at me, it breaks my damn heart. Her big eyes all sleepy an' whatnot. Them, almond-shaped eyes of hers. She looks lost, an' for another short moment, I forget the reality I'm in.

"What's up?"

Her normally medium-range voice is quiet. Her voice reminds me a lot like Nova's, a few octaves off an' all that, but the same tone in speech an' all. 'Cept Dez is a lot more confident with her words, than Nova was. It comes with the life, I figure.

"Hey, you need to wake up, kid."

She sits up, an' I pull the thin blanket up to her shoulders. She's damned confused as she rubs her eyes an' I feel guilty for wakin' her up. But I couldn't let her sleep through this. Wakin' up the next day to it, prolly wouldn't have been the best idea.

"Yeah, yeah but why?"

Sounds like a lost, little girl. For a split second, I see her that way, too. Ain't never saw her that way, but then I realize, it's what she is. It truly is. Her entire life out here, she's been nothin' but a lost little girl. I never thought of it that way, ain't never let it cross my mind cuz she's so damn good at hiding it. But now it does, an' I wonder if Charon's ever realized it. Thrown out into some big, unknown world when all you've ever known is the comfort and safety of a well-built vault. Goin' after a lost dad who never really paid you much attention in the first place, only to lose him forever in an instance. She ain't got no mom, died givin' birth to her. Ain't got no other friends, not that I know of, sides me an' Zack. All she really has, or has ever had, to rely on continuously is Charon. Lost, sad, little girl out here in a world that she wasn't really meant to be in. Figure it wasn't in her daddy's agenda to ever have her leave the vault, and I don't think leaving ever crossed her mind, either. If Charon hasn't seen this, if he hasn't let it dawn on him that Dez is delicate and sensitive, despite what she portrays, then he's a real fuck-head.

"Dez…you'll see. Look, I ain't been tellin' ya the whole story these past few months…"

She cocks an eyebrow an' holds the blanket up over her. Good thing, too, cuz I can hear the common house door slammin' shut below us.

"What? What's going on? Where's my gun?"

She goes to reach for it, but I put her back in her place, shakin' my head.

"You don't need it, kid, jus'…jus' know I ain't never meant to hurt you. Ain't never meant to take advantage or none of that stuff."

"Gob? Gob, what's going on…"

Her voice is worried now, an I don't have time to explain everything. Them footsteps be comin' up the stairs right quick, an I figure it's best if I just keep my mouth shut. Dez's eyes are drillin' holes in my head, but I ignore 'em, and I jus take her hand in mine an' hold it. Ain't nothin' more I can do right now.

As the noise gets closer, the noise of them heavy footsteps, I turn my head to watch the top of the stairs. I don't really believe what's in front of me at first, and damned if I don't recognize them. All I can really focus on is how tightly Dez is squeezin' my hand, and how bad a condition Charon's in when he's full-view in front of me. I was a goddamned fool.


	8. On Course to You

(Charon)

I come back to Megaton. There's dried blood on my face, and my armor. Most of it's not mine, but a good sum of it is. My hands are dry, cracked, and caked with more blood and bodily fluids that I care to count. Dirt covers them like a muddy veil, and I twitch my fingers, trying to pitifully clean them. There's aching sores up and down my body, my legs are tired, stiff, and my back is in no better condition. I hardly escaped with my life. Hardly moved fast enough. Outnumbered, three to one, I had to act fast out there. It was kill, or be killed, and I came close to the latter far too many times to count. But it was worth it. Every inch I gave, was worth the mile I was working for. With each bullet that grazed me, and each one that hit me, it was worth it all. I could have never come back, I could have died out there, allowing myself to be seen, chased and tracked by the Outcasts. I could have let them catch me, let them get their grimy hands on me and take me away, if not kill me, but I didn't. As I pretended to protect an imaginary Dez, I could have let them kill me many times, but I refused. I utterly refused. If they had, they would have discovered it was all a lie, and Dez's fate would have surely been sealed. I couldn't have that happen.

It was smart, for me to put Dez through what I did. To say goodbye as if it was forever. It could have been forever. On more than one occasion, I believed it would have been. At night, when I failed to see them, and they were right on top of me. During the day, when their numbers silently increased. Their hands were almost on me, at some instances, but I never allowed them to be. I forced myself, to stay one step ahead. Depriving myself of sleep, of food, remembering the training that I had gone through so long ago, I forced them onward. Forced them as far away from Megaton as I could possibly get. It wasn't the getting away that was the problem, though. The leading them far off into the darkest unknowns was simple. It was getting back, without them knowing where I was headed, was the hard part.

I almost did get caught once. One night, as I sat in the dark stillness of twilight, sleeping with one eye open. A brave, and stupid, Outcast had come and invaded the small camp. A lump of brambles in the shape of a body, covered by a ragged blanket, was my distraction and their illusion of Dez. But that soldier, that solider met an untimely death. He had succeeded in wounding me, and bad. I almost didn't make it that night, but I forced myself to find radiation and heal the gaping wound in my chest, caused by his semi-automatic weapon. If he had taken me, it can assure you it wouldn't have been alive. I would have done the unthinkable, and taken my own life, to protect the one I had left behind. I made my mind up when I left her, that I wouldn't put her in danger anymore. I would have killed myself, in order to keep her safe. It would have been a sacrifice worth making.

Which is why it was best for me, to leave her the way I did. So then, she wouldn't spend days upon days, awaiting my unknowing return. So that possibly, she'd even hate me. I wanted to cause her the littlest amount of pain as I could, wanted to make sure that if I died and she heard the news of my death, she wouldn't hurt like she would, if I left her with a tender embrace and gentle kiss. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself, knowing that I'd left her behind, still in love, still hoping, still waiting. I had to make her believe there was no longer anything between us. That somewhere along the way I had had a change of heart, and fallen out of love with her. Nothing is further from the truth than that, though. Nothing, is more of a lie, than that right there. She…just the simple thought of her, is the only thing that kept me alive most nights.

The thought of her smile, and the freckles across her face that I've never noticed before. The feel of her hair between my fingers, and her powerful scent filling my mind. I would lie in rare peaceful and quiet moments, thinking of nothing but her. I would imagine the way her body curved, the perfect image of a woman. A balanced chest, thin stomach, child-rearing hips, and thick thighs that are suited best for running, with sleek and slender calves that would look beautiful bare against the soft lining of a large bed. The perfect image, of a Nuka Cola bottle-shaped woman, lean, but with perfect curves, in perfect places.

Nights, upon nights, I'd think of her like that. Listen to her voice in the back of my mind, hear her laugh as I remembered distant memories. When the battles became fierce, and the hope scarce, I would hear her voice painfully crying my name. It would make me fight harder. As if she was somewhere close by, needing my help, my protection. I never allowed the Outcasts to see how much harm they caused me. How ruined my armor became in between fights and battles. Often, I would have to find a trader to patch it up for me, if I didn't have the supplies to do it on my own. I looked half-dead. With my ghoulified body, and blood mixing with sweat and mucus covering me, I surely scared some wanderers into thinking I was perhaps an evolved form of ghoul. It didn't matter to me, though. What mattered was getting back to her, and holding her close once again.

My journey back was difficult. I had to often change direction and paths, straying further away from Megaton than closer. It kept them off of me, kept them guessing and wondering. I know that all I did was buy her some vital time. It is time, however, and time she needs very desperately. The Outcasts are determined to find her, and for good reason. They won't be lost in the Capital Wasteland for very long. Eventually, sooner rather than later, they will come to Megaton. I can only hope, that in the time I have fought for her, she will soon come up with a plan of escape or attack.

I didn't expect to be gone as long as I have been, either. I had hoped that just a couple or few weeks would pass, before I would be able to get home. But no, no things didn't turn out the way I had planned. The Outcasts are smarter than I gave them credit for, and they dutifully put my survival and fighting skills to the test. I've been gone for three months now, and the worry that brings is immense. Dez is not the type of person to stay long in one place, I know this. I know, that she will become restless, if she has not already, and leave. My only hope is that Gob has kept his end of the bargain, and kept her close in Megaton. How, I do not care. I simply want her to be there, here, now with me.

The moment of truth comes, as I walk up the wooden and dirt steps to the common house. My bones creak beneath the weight of my body, of my armor and gun. My hands shake with anticipation, as my mind quivers with sleepiness. I have not slept in two days, and I am feeling the pangs and vices that come with deprivation. In front of me, is the moment I have been waiting for. For three months, I thought of almost nothing except this. This returning to her arms, explaining to her that I left not to hurt her, but only to keep her safe and from harm's way. I have dreamt of this moment, when I was able to sleep, and have anticipated it more than I have ever anticipated anything before. I do not know for certain, if she's here, of if her and Gob left. Megaton looks just as I left it, with no signs of Outcast invasion. I cannot figure she would have left. She is, Dez though, and she does unpredictable things. I can only hope now, that she is where I left her, and sleeping as soundly as ever.

Pushing open the door, it feels as if it weighs as much as two Deathclaws. My body is so ragged and run-down, but it's the last thing on my mind. All I can think of, all I want to think of, is returning to her. The thought itself gives me energy, from where I don't know. I'm flooded with anticipation and excitement, like a child would be on Christmas morning. Running about the house, screaming for everyone to wake. Unfamiliar faces line the beds of the ground floor, and they all sleep through my entrance. If they wake or not doesn't matter to me, I simply just want to climb the steps before me, and see Dez once again.

It feels like an eternity, before my eyes reach over the top of the landing. I force myself to go just a bit faster, as my heart pounds mercilessly in my chest. My eyes scan the floor, as I take the last step. Slowly, because I want to savior this moment and feeling for as long as I can. The first thing I see, is Gob staring at me. He's kneeled down beside a bed, and his eyes are filled with so many different feelings and emotions, that I can't figure to name just one. I didn't expect him to be shocked, happy, or excited at my return, but I also didn't expect him to look at me, like the way a hurt child looks up at their mother.

Despite what it is he's feeling, my mind forced me to stay on point. I cross over him, wordless, and follow his arm. He holds Dez's hand in his, clutching it for comfort. She sits up, wrapped in a white sheet, her eyes wide, her hair sprawled in so many different directions. The diagonal scars from the Feral Ghoul Reaver she received in Point Lookout are pink against this light. Our eyes meet, and a weight is lifted.

Dropping my gun, I rush towards her. Without hesitation, I kneel down, pushing Gob away, and wrap my arms around Dez's shoulders.

"Dez…"

I say as my hands and fingers tangle in her hair, as my dry, cracked lips kiss the side of her head with submersed passion. I nearly begin to sob, at the warmth of her skin against mine, at the feel of her soft body. Her hands wrap around my biceps, her face presses into my chest. She clings to me as if I'm back from the dead. I must look it to her. I feel her body shake, and I know she's crying. Muffled sobs seep out from against my armor, and I pull back to see her. I just want to look at her.

"Dez…Dez, don't cry."

I wipe away the tears on her face with my thumb. It does no good, more simply fill their place. I almost burst out laughing at the way she looks at me. Her eyes, wet, wild, her face scrunched up into a confused, sad, and happy expression. She opens her mouth to talk, choking out words between sobs.

"You…you…"

It's all she can say, and I kiss her head.

"Don't worry. I'm here now. Everything will be alright now, I promise. Don't worry, just calm down."

It's hypocritical of me to tell her to calm down. Inside, my own emotions are raging and wanting to come out. But I remain cool-headed and calm. I have to, because we can't have two sobbing people in the common house. Smoothing her hair with the palm of my hand, I let her look at me. I let her touch my face and tell herself this isn't a dream. Glancing at her, I see in her eyes disbelief and wonder. Thankfully, she's stopped crying, and has calmed herself enough to speak.

"You…you left."

I nod, still stroking her hair.

"And I came back. I didn't leave, for no good reason, Dezbe. I left because I had to."

"Why? Why, Charon?"

There's anger masked behind desperation. She has the right to be angry with me. I didn't expect her not to be.

"I promise you, I promise, I will explain it all tomorrow. Right now, right now, let's just sleep, Dez."

Although she's understandably angry, Dez looks at my worn body, and into my tired and battered eyes. With her hands on my shoulders, she pushes up, using me as a balance. The blanket that covers her body falls around her waist, and her eyes glaze over. I move, to try and fit in the bed with her, but she lifts her hands up, blocking me.

"Charon…Charon Gob and I we-"

"We missed you."

Gob interrupts her. For a slight moment, I feel something unspoken in the air, as Dez stops herself midsentence and looks up at Gob. Their eyes meet, but silence follows. She looks back at me, a half-smile on her face. I want to smile back at her.

"Yeah…yeah we've missed you."

Dez finished her statement, and allows me to enter the bed. I sit myself on the edge, and begin to unlace my boots and take off my armor. Sleep, is welcoming. My hands are tired, worn and my body creaks with each slight movement. Behind me, Dez moves over on the bed to accommodate my presence. Although tired and riddled with exhaustion, I find myself excited, to finally be next to her once more. When I wake, be it tomorrow or the next day given my lack of sleep, I will tell her everything. Will tell her how it was necessary, and how I hope she can forgive me. I know she will, in time or right away, because we have always found ways, to forgive one another.

As I let my armor fall to the ground, and push my legs beneath the white blanket, I notice Gob. He stares at us, like a sad child would their mother, as he walk over to share a bed with Zack. It's odd, he's never looked that way before, but I don't think much of it. Rather, I busy myself in getting comfortable, and wrapping my weary arms around Dez. For three months, I've thought of nothing other than embracing her like this.

"I love you."

I tell her, kissing the side of her head. She turns her back to me, allowing herself to mold with my chest.

"Yeah…yeah ditto."

Her tired voice slips away, as deep, slow breaths of sleep take her. It's not long, either, before I join her. Although right now, the night grows colder and colder, and the warmth inside the common house dwindles, I feel as if I'm standing in the bright sunlight of day, with Dezbe curled into me. It's a peace, that I've been void of for too long.


	9. Rain Clouds Come to Play

(Gob)

I'm throwin' myself into this bike. Last night was one goddamned fuckin' mess for me. Didn't get any sleep at all. Worthless piece of junk this bike is, ain't even gonna work I bet. Ah, what am I sayin'? I'm jus' mad an' takin' it out on the wrong thing. Sighing, I lean back in the stool I've dragged outside. Restin' my arms on my thighs, I look over at Zack. He's playin' with some old, broken pistol, pretendin' to shoot things that jus' ain't there. I want to smile at him, but I can't figure out how. It was a long night, an' I frankly wanna forget it.

What confuses me, though, is Dez. I swear to you, she was all up and ready to tell Charon about me an' her the very _instant_ he walked through that damned door. Was all prepped and ready and fuck if I hadn't intervened, she would have. She would have. But I did, an' I did it for good reason. Charon's out there riskin' his life for the girl, and I'm here eatin' his meat. Ain't gonna make no one happy, to tell him I slept with his woman. Dez don't need a guy like me, she jus' don't. I can't be hurtin' Charon anymore than I have. Even though I knew, when I saw him comin' on in from the gates last night, that he's gonna up and take her away, I still can't be selfish. He prolly knows what's best for her, better than I do and better than she does. Ain't my place, to fight with someone, over a person who was never really mine to begin with. Even though it hurts, and it pains me, it ain't my place, and I ain't right for it.

Tossin' down an old rag I was usin' to wipe my hands, I look up at the sky. Been actin' funny lately, the weather an' all. Thick, gray clouds are hangin' off over there in the distance. Last time clouds like that were 'round here was for rain and thunderstorms. Ain't been no rain here, in I can't remember when. If it did rain, though, that'd mean somethin'. It'd mean life. It's mean that one day, an' one day soon, the world will grow again. Fresh, luscious green grass, and big green trees an' all that. I mean, I'm sure some parts of the world all have that an' whatnot, but here…here it might as well be Death Valley. I look up at them clouds, an' I wonder if anyone else in the Capital Wasteland notices them. Don't think it's hard not to, so I figure somewhere some scientist is goin' stark ravin' mad over it. If it does rain, and it ain't irradiated, well, everyone should line up an' be shakin' Dez's hand. After all, without fresh water, there'd be no fresh rain.

Gettin' up from the stool, I walk around the bike a bit. Been workin' on it since dawn to keep my mind busy and preoccupied, so I haven't really had time to stretch my legs. Lighting up a spare smoke I kept behind my ear, I watch an' laugh at Zack as he goes an pretends to die by the hand of Harden. Yeah, sometimes Harden will come 'round and play with Zack, usually when he's not too busy with that other lil gal that runs around. It's nice of Harden, an' I think Zack likes havin' a playmate. Inhalin' on my smoke, I watch proudly as Zack laughs and plays with Harden. That's my son right there, that's my boy, an' he's all I got left in this world.

"Gob?"

I jump from surprise an' turn my head to see Dez. Well, can't hardly much see her, since she's hidin' on the edge of Moria's shop in the shadows. She takes a step forward, a bit in the sun, an' I can see in her eyes there's nothin' good she wants to talk about. She don't have her gun on her, either, an' usually she does. Even when she was workin' on that other one, she had a small one clipped to her waist.

"Hey, hey kid. How you doin'? It's early, you know."

She dismiss my statement, and brushes some hair outta her face. Her eyes are wide, big, perfect almond-shaped ones. There's lots of things, swimmin' in them eyes.

"I have to talk to you."

She ain't askin' if we can talk, she's telling me she's gonna talk, and I'm gonna listen. Pullin' my pack of smokes from my pocket, I offer her one. She takes it, and lights it herself.

"Alright kid, shoot."

Blowin' a plume of smoke out her mouth, Dez leans against the building. In all the confidence, bitchiness, and cockiness that surrounds her right now, I can see she's bullshitting. She's scared out of her mind.

"I need to know what you meant to say last night. When you said you weren't telling me the truth. What did you mean?"

I suppose now, it'll be alright to tell her. At least, I can tell her my side. Charon can tell her his, whenever he wakes up. I got this notion he's gonna be asleep for a while.

"I figure it don't matter now, and I can come clean. Alright, kid. Look, before Charon left you here, he told me he was gonna. He told me he was gonna leave, cuz he had to, and I wasn't gonna say nothin' to you or else, basically. He told me that he was gonna leave, to scare off the Outcasts, or somethin' like that. He didn't want me to go blabbin' to you because he figured, if he left you thinkin' it was over, then if he didn't come back you wouldn't be so hurt 'bout anything. And then, if he did come back, which he did, you'd hopefully still be here an' you'd be alive an' well. Which you are, so I guess that his plan worked."

Damn. It feels so good to finally get that off my chest. I expect Dez to say somethin' right away. To reply with somethin' snide and harsh and start hollerin' at me for not tellin' her. But she don't. Instead, she jus' stands there, leanin' against the buildin' and smokin'. I can tell she's thinkin' though, so I don't say anything.

"…I understand."

She says, tossin' her now finished cigarette to the ground and puttin' it out with her boot.

"He was right. It probably was best, to keep me in the dark about it all."

"Right, it was."

Dez takes a step towards me, her arms hangin' by her sides. She looks so defeated.

"But…but you know now, I have to leave. He's going to take me, to some far-off place, and I might not come back."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

I tell her, feeling a pain I ain't never felt before, when Dez would tell me she's leaving.

"Gob?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Am I a bad person…for not wanting to go?"

I'm floored by her question, an' I look at her.

"What? What do you mean?"

Dez looks at me, with half-closed eyes as her gaze drifts down to the impacted dirt beneath our feet. A warm wind picks up, and lifts stray and small strands of her hair up. She doesn't move, she doesn't try to smooth it back down, she just stares, water trying to create tears in her eyes.

"…I don't want to go. I…I'm not sure, what to do. Last night, Gob, before I came back in, I decided it was over, to turn my emotions off and close the books and chapters of me and Charon's wild adventures together. I wanted…to focus on my future, on me…and you. When he came back last night, I…I'm not sure what I felt. I was happy to see him, happy he was alive and well but…but it wasn't the sense of overpowering joy and emotion that I've felt before when he's returned. If I go now, wherever he may go or want to take me, then what will you do? What about us?"

She don't explain it too well, but I get it. A guess a good way to explain her explanation would be like this: You're showerin'. You turn off the water, an' you step out. When you go back to shower again, you have to wait a bit for it to turn warm, or else it's gonna be quite uncomfortable. Think of that, as Dez's emotions. I figure…I figure she turned 'em off for good reason, an' don't wanna let 'em get warm again for more good reasons. As much as I wanna tell her to stay here, to be with me an' Zack and give up the life she has on the outside, I know I can't. She'll get unhappy here, eventually, an' I can't manipulate this to benefit myself. I gotta think of her, first.

"Kid…kid you gotta go with him."

"What?"

She's shocked at my words, and I can't even look at her as I talk.

"You ain't suited for this place. It ain't you, not yet, anyways. Charon bought you precious time to plan and figure out where to go and where to hide. Stayin' here…well…all his efforts out there would be for nothin' then. He woulda risked his life, for nothing, an' do you really want that, kid? We both know, deep inside, you ain't gonna be happy here. Sure for a while, but you're gonna get ancy and wanna leave. I know you're worryin' about me an' all, but remember kid, you've taken off more times than I care to count. I know you'll be back. Usually later, rather than sooner, but you'll come back. And when you do, I'll be here."

I can see the realization dawn on her. She bites her lip, blinkin', an' tears run down her face. I take her an' hold her. I let her sob and cry on me, and I pat her back in comfort. She grips my shirt, sobbing with the emotions of a matured woman, and a confused girl. We know it's for the best, though, an' I know she'll be alright.

"Go on, kid. Go back up to the common house, an' be with him."

I tell her, as her sobs begin to quiet.

"It's not like that anymore, Gob. I don't think…that I can just…"

She don't have to finish, an' I don't ask her to. I know what she means, an' I understand.

"Kid…I understand."

Pickin' up her head, Dez looks at me, with wet eyes and a moist face.

"You're my best friend, Gob. Thank you."

She kisses my cheek, and I feel her slidin' out of my grip. I don't really want her to go, I want her to stay in my arms for a bit, but I know it's for the best. I know, as she walks down the rickety metal streets, and heads back up to see Charon, that I've done my part. I've been the friend that I needed to be for the two of them. Lord knows, out here, you can't trust anyone. By me, jus' bein' me, I've prolly helped those two more than they care to admit. Dez'll be back one day, and Charon will be with her, an' perhaps then…perhaps then, we can all settle down an' live like we've always dreamed.


	10. 50,000 Tears

(Dez)

It's the moment of truth now, and I don't like it too much. Charon and I, we're going to The Pitt. We decided that yesterday, after he took two days rest and a day to eat like he was half-starved. The Pitt, I said, and he agreed. He wasn't with me, when I went the first time, so obvious concerns were talked about. Like Trog, and the air toxins, and if they'd help and blah, blah, blah. I told him that there was probably a cure for Trog by now, and the toxins probably aren't as bad as they were five years ago, and that Wernher owes me a huge favor. So of course, he'll _have_ to help me. Or us. I keep forgetting Charon's in as much trouble as I am, too.

I even forget he's here. Not in a bad way, just…in a way I would simply forget things. I suppose, that's bad. Well…well it's hard. It's hard right now, to articulate how I'm feeling. With Gob telling me to go and that it's best, and Charon loving me just as much as he ever did…and me. Me, unsure if leaving is right, and if loving Charon back is wrong. I know things between us, won't be the same, and eventually I'll have to open up about Gob, but not right now. I want to take things slow, and let my body recover and regenerate from everything right now. If you jump into foolish emotions too soon, then you end up worse than you were before. I know Charon. He'll think something's up, but he won't pry. And when I wake up and realize what I truly want, he'll be there to understand it all. It's just…right now, it's really hard.

Gob holds Zack in his arms, as Charon stands beside me. We're outside Megaton, at the gates, ready to go, but no one is really moving. It's an uneasy silence, and Charon puts his arm around me to comfort me. It just makes me feel worse. I bite my lip, looking up at him.

"Alright. Alright we have to go now."

I tell him, and he nods. Looking over at Gob, I sigh. I have to say goodbye now. I have to tell him I'm leaving him, and that I might not come back. If the Outcasts want me bad enough, eventually they're going to find me. When they do…depending on how I feel…I'm not sure what will happen. I'm not sure, if right now, I want to say goodbye to Gob. But I have to, because it's for the best. Staying…staying would just put him in danger. To my honest and loyal friend, I can't do that. I simply can't.

"I'll miss you."

I say as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. He leans in, hugging me with one arm while the other supports Zack.

"I'll miss you too, kid. But I know you'll be back here. This lug will make sure of that."

Charon grunts in response behind me. He's eager to go. Since he woke up, he's been worried about the Outcasts finding out he duped them and coming here to attack us. I say he just worries too much, that's all. Taking a small step back from Gob, I keep my arms around him as I take one last look at him. I smile, and give him a quick, small, peck on the lips. It's nothing serious, although I want it to be. It's just enough to make me feel better, and innocent enough to look as if we're two friends saying goodbye. Gob made me swear I wouldn't tell Charon right away about me and him, and that I'd really take the time to think about everything before making a choice. Gob said that he thinks it's best for us to forget the three months we spent with one another, and continue on as if it never happened. I think…I think he's wrong. I think for those three months, that he kept me as calm and as safe as he could, was the best new feeling I could ever feel. After all, I've felt so many different things, since I left the vault, that sometimes a small, slow, nice and comforting emotion is better than all of them. When you're so tired of being me, it's nice, to take a break. I want to remember those three months, and I want him to remember, too.

"Goodbye, Gob."

I say as I step away, and turn to face Charon. He has his arms folded, his eyes quietly scanning the area around us. I go up and touch his arm. He looks down at me, and strokes mine.

"Ready?"

Charon asks, and I nod. He looks at Gob, and raises his hand to wave goodbye. Then…then we're off. As we walk away, I walk in silence. I don't have much to say to Charon, as the pain of leaving Gob behind grows with every step we take away from Megaton. I want to look back, but I don't, because it's too much for me to bear right now.

"Dez?"

I keep my eyes focused on the ground. Rocks, dirt, pebbles, a dead bush. It's nothing new, it's all the same. The same, just like a home should be.

"Dez?"

My feet come into my view with every step I take. The old, worn, and graying boots I wear protect my feet from the sharp rocks and hard dirt. I don't know, really, what I would do without shoes.

"Dezbe?"

Blinking, I look up at Charon.

"What?"

"You should pull up the map, so we're not walking in circles."

"Oh, oh right, yeah."

I haven't used my Pip-Boy much. In fact, I haven't used it at all since he left. Pressing a few buttons, I watch as the screen lights up to life, as if an old friend has come back. I smile at the screen. I've missed this part. The part where I find the map, where the adventure starts. Maybe, maybe this trip won't be so bad. In a few days time, maybe I'll even be back to the Dez I was before Charon and I were chased from Tenpenny Tower. That wouldn't be so bad, but it's a serious 'maybe'.

"It'll take like, four or five days to get there."

I tell Charon, as I set a map marker on my compass. It loads, and the arrow tells me we're going in the right direction.

"We should stay alert, then. By now, the Outcasts have probably grown in numbers."

"Yeah, probably."

"We won't make a fire at night, unless we have to. Don't want to be seen."

Letting my Pip-Boy fall to my side, I look up at the sky. There are these big, angry looking clouds up in the distance, and I raise an eyebrow to them. I've never seen clouds like that before. I'm not going to worry about that, though. There's bigger things I need to be concerned with. Charon slips his hand into mine, and squeezes it before letting go. It's warm, where he touched, and it makes me smile a bit.

We walk in silence, which is unusual. Charon and I…we almost always have something to say to one another. Something to talk about, to converse about with one another. Not this time, though, no. It's not that I have nothing to say, I just don't feel like saying it. I don't want to ask pointless question, or give hypothetical situations. He's not talking either, and for good reason I think. We both know the truth, we just won't say it. There's no end to this. There won't ever be an end, either. The Outcasts want me, and they want me dead. They're ruthless and determined, and eventually, I know they'll find me. Unless they do, or I give myself up, it'll be an endless tale of running here and there.

I mean, it's the Brotherhood of Steel, really. They have a West Coast faction, and the Outcasts and whatever it was Elder Lyons was running was the East Coast faction. It's the military of what once was the United States. I'm sure Casdin isn't going to forget me, and is most likely going to bitch and rant to whomever higher ups will listen. When he does that, if they care enough, they'll put out an APB and I'm about as dead as a Molerat fighting a Deathclaw. A person can only really run and hide for so long, before something happens or there's no more places to hide at. The future, I suppose, doesn't look too bright.

I can always go home, I guess, if need be. But I don't really know where that is anymore. Growing up, home was my apartment with my dad in the vault. When I left the vault, it was the vault. When I found Megaton, it was Megaton. After that it became Rockopolis, and then after that any random place we could find. Tenpenny Tower, was another home, and when I lost my mind it was the Citadel. Looking back, I guess I could have called a lot of places home at the time. Now, is really the first time I have nothing to return to. Even in New Vegas, when I lived in a shanty apartment, it was still home, and I had something to go back to at night. I still had the Capital Wasteland, too.

Picking my head up, I look ahead. Mountainous rocks loom on the horizon, and vicious dogs bark in communication with one another. It makes me miss Dogmeat. I never asked Gob what happened to him. Figure I already know. He's dead by now, I'm sure, and that makes me sad. He was a good dog, that stupid, smelly mutt. Loyal companions are hard to come by, and even though Dogmeat wasn't much for conversation, but he was still my buddy, and everyone knows I don't have many of those these days.

Looking over my shoulder, I don't see much, but I pretend I can see Rivet City. Down there, that's where Nurse Graves and Dr. Barrows went to, or so I was told. That's where the scientists are, that worked with my dad on Project Purity. Some are probably still there, and some at the Jefferson Memorial still working on it. At least, I would think so. It's been five years since I was down there, five and a half now I suppose. I wonder, I wonder how they're all doing, and I wonder if they ever think of me. Probably not. They probably never think of the girl, who risked all she had and all she ever cared for, to turn on that Purifier and save everyone in the Capital Wasteland's lives. It doesn't bother me, though. I just wish I could believe that.

"Why so quiet?"

Charon asks as we begin to follow a path that leads uphill. I hate walking uphill.

"I'm not quiet."

I tell him, catching my breath and forcing myself to keep my pace steady.

"You're not saying much is all."

"I don't have much to say."

"You're mad about me leaving still, aren't you?"

I wish that was the case, Charon. I wish that it was true. That I was still bitterly angry about your sudden departure, and even more sudden return. But I'm not. I'm just tired, and carrying around a weight that I don't feel I have a right to bear. A weight of heavy emotions, and empty thoughts. It's not just about Gob, either, it's about a lot of things. I know Gob and I, we were never going to last and eventually it had to end. That for the time being, what we had was nothing more than a soft comfort amongst friends. I'm starting to be okay with that. What I'm not starting to be okay with, is how my life is going.

Out here, you can't be anything. Whereas in the vault, there was something. A doctor like my father, an Overseer, a technician, a teacher, a hairstylist, anything really. When you're born here, in the Capital Wasteland, there's no career path. No rules of guidelines, or guidance to help you choose the right path. You simply are, and you simply survive, and if you can't do that you simply die. I'm not sure anymore, if I want to continue on this life of running mad, running wild and free. I know I sound insane, and unlike my former self, but after the constant brigade of sameness and events, you get bored with it. You ache for something new, something exciting. But there is nothing new to be out here, nothing exciting. I can hope, though, that soon I'll find the old love of being so free and reckless. I suppose that can only come with youthful desires. I'm not youthful anymore. I'm twenty-five now. I feel much, much older.

"No, no Charon, I'm not mad."

He gets to the top first, and outstretches his hand to me. I don't take it right away. Instead, I stop, and I look at him. I look around us, at where we are, and a sense of familiar comfort hits me. I smile at him, taking his hand and holding on to it even after I reach the top myself.

"Charon…you know where we are?"

He looks around, shrugging. It's hard really, to tell where is what out here. Most of it looks the same.

"On a slope?"

Smiling, I shake my head and then nod. He's right, we're on a slope, but not just any slope. Looking to my left, I smile.

"It's where you saved my life. You know, the first time."

Charon looks where I'm looking, and he smirks. His fingers fit between mine, and he squeezes. In my chest, my heart pounds. His fingers, they fit perfectly between mine. My thin, long, and seemingly delicate fingers, hold his rough, chafed, and chapped ones so tightly, and so softly. I'd forgotten, how it feels to feel like a kid inside again. I would lie awake, missing him, and missing how perfect it felt to hold his hand like this. I smile stupidly at him, remembering how not too long ago, I'd try and sleep soundly, but I would miss his arms and his body next to mine so desperately.

"It wasn't the same, without you."

I tell him as we stare off into the distance, over the cliff I had tried to end my life with so long ago.

"What wasn't?"

"Everything. Watching the night come and go, waking up, eating, walking, just being. It wasn't the same. I felt alone, but…I didn't, when I thought of you."

He pulls me closer to him, kissing the top of my head. Charon and Dezbe. Dezbe and Charon. Chezbe, and Dharon. Okay that sounds stupid. Opening my mouth, I stick my tongue far out, and crane my head to look upwards. Closing my eyes, I stand on tip-toes, and reach for something that isn't there.

"Dez? What the hell are you doing?"

"Tasting the sky."

I say, my heart filling with hope, my body becoming alive for a moment once again. It'll take time, I think, for me to learn to like my life. For me to readjust to the constant movement, the constant way of fighting and alertness. But when I do, I know I'll get enjoyment of it. Right now, I can go both ways. I can stay home, or I can venture off into the sunset like an old movie. I can do anything I want to, given that I stay under the radar. The wind howls in my ear, as the early afternoon sun shines down upon me, warming me with it's comforting rays of warmth. You shine, sun, you shine. You shine like those stars shine at night, and you shine bright.

Closing my mouth, I look over and up at Charon.

"Hey."

I say, and he looks at me.

"Yeah?"

"Come on, we're wasting day."

He nods, and with our fingers interlaced, we continue on. I'm sure soon enough, I'll be back to me. Not sure which me, but me, nonetheless. I don't do well to sudden changes, and I don't do well with abruptly leaving. I did, a long time ago, but now it's different. Instead of being so worrisome, and pessimistic about the future, maybe I should try and be hopeful. For all I know, things could turn out wonderful, and I could end up pretty happy. Of course, that could all be a bunch of Brahmin shit, but hey, who's gonna know the difference? Hopefully not me.

Later on that night, Charon and I find a nice little mini-cave to use as shelter. Not really shelter from anything severe or dire, but since we can't make a fire to warm us, we need something to keep us slightly warm at night. Except, tonight isn't really that cold out. I notice this as I look around the dimming Capital Wasteland desert.

"Charon?"

"Yeah?"

He's moving around some rocks that prove to be really uncomfortable. At least, that's my own personal suspicion. I haven't crawled in the cramped 'cave' yet. He has, though. I have no idea why.

"I feel sticky."

I say, lighting a cigarette.

"Sticky?"

Charon comes out of the 'cave' which I now will call 'hole in the cliff-side' because in all honesty, it's really not cave-able. Handing him a cigarette, he lights it and gives me an odd look.

"I can't really describe it. My hair is…poofy and I feel hot and well, sticky. It feels like Point Lookout."

Charon takes the time to flex his fingers while holding the cigarette in his teeth. I watch him look up and around, a confused look falling over his face.

"It's…been a long time."

"A long time since what?"

I kick up some loose pebbles on the ground. I don't think I'll sleep tonight. Night in the Capital Wasteland aren't like this. They were warm, but nothing like this. Feels like I'm standing in a shallow puddle under the glaring sun, only the puddle isn't cool like puddles should be.

"Humidity. Look."

He points upwards, and I look. My eyes grow wide, there's no stars. No moon, no stars. I take a real good look around and realize everything is so much darker, without the light of the moon shining down on everything.

"Where the _fuck_ are the stars and what the _fuck_ is 'humidity'?"

Charon bursts out in laugher before answering me. I'm dead serious. I find nothing funny in this situation, despite what he may think and or feel. Tapping my foot impatiently on the ground, I blow an angry trail of smoke from my lips. The only thing that distracts my mind from the current events, is the Washington Monument, lit up way far off in the distance. It's beautiful, you know.

"Humidity is when there's moisture in the air, Dez. You're used to dry heat, this is moist heat. The stars are behind the clouds. I think it's going to rain."

Charon stops his laughter long enough to answer my question. It doesn't calm me much, and I cock an eyebrow at him.

"Rain? It hasn't rained here in…well, I don't know how long, has it?"

"No, not since the Great War. This worries me."

"Why?"

Charon taps the ground with his foot, and I toss away my cigarette. He looks around, up at the sky, then back at me.

"The ground is hardened. The earth molded a certain way and the rocks haven't moved. Rain will soften it all. We shouldn't stay here."

"Isn't rain a good thing, though?"

Charon shrugs, looking in the direction of Megaton.

"In the long run, yes. But right now, if it does in fact rain, a lot of places are in danger."

"Danger? Why?"

"Like I said, the ground will soften. The rocks will move, the dirt will turn to mud. It can cause disaster."

"What about Gob?"

I blurt out, my eyes growing wide. I'm not sure what angle Charon's getting at, but if he says it's bad, then I trust him. After all, he's been around eons longer than I have. He looks at me, as if I said something unbelievable.

"I don't know. Come on, let's go up."

"Up? Why up?"

A high wind picks up, and something soft and moist hits my face. I look down at my torso, and notice it's sleek with water.

"Mist."

Charon states, impatiently urging me to move onward. Mist. Moving my hands in the air in front of me, I ignore Charon's impatience. As if I'm holding something delicate, I flex my fingers to feel the air around me. It's wet, tangibly wet. I've never seen or heard of rain before. Never really gave it much thought. When I wave my hand downward, I pick up droplets of water, and it fills me with childhood giddiness.

"Charon…mist…"

I say, moving my hands up and down sporadically. He stops urging me for a minute, and takes in the sight that I'm feeling. I spin around slowly, trying to feel the tiny water crystals in the air. It feels so refreshing. Like I'm underwater, but I can breathe, and like it's all oxygenated. I can't help but laugh. Running my hands over my bare forearms, and stomach, I leave trails with my fingers. Thick mist, have you ever stood in it? This is my first time. I need to look forward to the future, because of moments like this.

"Dez, I understand that this is your first time feeling a mist like this, but I really think we should move on."

Before I can respond, a loud clap of thunder vibrates my entire body. It's louder, than it ever was before in Point Lookout, and very shortly after that a bright flash of lightning makes me think for a moment it's day. A strong, powerful silence falls after that, as Charon and I hold our breaths. We look out towards the Capital Wasteland south, just to witness the impending events ahead. The heavy rain, falls from the far south first, and begins to layer itself towards us. It makes a loud hissing noise, as it shoots down from the sky above, and beats against the dead trees, rocks, and dirt below. Before I know it, the rain makes its way to us, drenching us almost instantly.

"Let's _go_!"

Charon hisses, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. He near drags me up the side of the cliff we decided to sleep under. I need him to support me. The dry dirt beneath our feet is quickly turning into a soft, muddy mixture of sediment. My boots begin to sink almost instantly, as the rain pelts at is. Another loud clap of thunder, and flash of bright lightning scares my body into working harder. I reach ahead of me, to grab a rock for support, when Charon grabs the front of my shirt.

"Don't touch it!"

He yells over the loud rain, and I jerk my hand away. The mud makes me slip and slide, and even though we're in danger, I can't help but feel a bit of humor and enjoyment out of this whole thing. Charon hastily pulls me up the hillside, grunting in anger the whole way. The mud is getting wetter and wetter by the minute, and I look down at the Potomac River as we reach the top.

"It's going to rise."

I say, my eyes widening. Quickly, I bring up my Pip-Boy map, honing in on Megaton.

"Megaton will be fine, it's uphill and far enough away from the river."

"Charon, it's dug _inside_. It's like a bowl, it'll fill up."

"Gob will be fine. Storms like this don't last for very long. We should use it to our advantage."

"What advantage? I see no advantage in this."

Just as I say that, the mud beneath my feet gives way and I fall on my back. Liquid dirt, the kind you'd find at the bottom of a lake, swells around my body and makes a sucking sound as I pick myself up.

"This is disgusting."

Charon doesn't seem to notice my discontent. He's busy looking around, but there's no point in that. The rain blocks everything out. I know he's looking for a safer spot, than on top of a small hill, so I bring my map back up and start looking for nearby locations.

"We're close to Agatha's house!"

I shout over some thunder. Charon looks at me, and then at the map.

"Who is Agatha?"

"I don't know, but it's on the map, and it's close."

He nods, telling me we're heading that way. I place a secondary map marker on the home, and we begin to move. The upward climb was bad, but the downward one, is quite fun. Rather than fighting the slipping and sliding that the mud causes, I simply sit down, and propel my body forward. It's like a giant slide, a giant painful slide. My butt scraped against upturned rocks, and I scrape up my knees something bad. By the time I hit the bottom, sinking in up to my wrists, I'm covered in deep cuts, and dirty blood. The rain isn't irradiated. I notice that, when I realize there's no tingling sensation or healing of my scrapes.

Charon luckily, isn't too far behind. I can't get myself up, the mud acting like a sucking machine and holding fast to my body. He offers me his hand, and effortlessly pulls me up. It's going to be a tiresome walk to this place, because our feet sink to our ankles with each step we take, and the rain shows no signs in letting up. Instead, it feels like it's getting worse. The rain hits harder, a strong wind picks up, and the thunder booms louder than ever. I have to hold my arm in front of my face, and use Charon as a human shield to keep going.

When I get a break in the wind, I look up at him. I expect him to be holding up his own arm, so the rain doesn't get in his eyes, but he isn't. He's walking straight as he always does, as if the elements have no effect on him. I'm amazing. In all the situations I've seen him act in, none have been more impressive than this. In the highlight of the first storm the Capital Wasteland has seen in over two-hundred years, Charon stands, unscathed and unaffected by it all. He walks, tall and strong. It's as if he's not even pushing himself through the water, instead, the water seems to part for his presence. I know very well it isn't, but the way he's moving it just seems like it. When the wind hits us, and I force myself to mimic him, I can't. He doesn't even twitch his arm to raise it. He just walks, headstrong in the direction we need to go in, looking back every now and again to make sure I'm still following. If we get parted even a little bit in this weather, I don't think the two of us would easily find one another again. My boots, sink deeper with each step, and my legs are starting to ache. I can go for days and miles without my feet or legs hurting, because I'm use to it, but I can't do this. This forceful pull and stomp motion that the mud and rain force me to have. I hope this place is warm, dry, and safe. And, also, not demolished.

Grabbing Charon's wrist, I fear that we'll get separated. I close my fingers tightly around him, and let him drag a bit of my weight. The mud deepens more, and I pull on his arm to get his attention.

"What's going on?"

I yell, the rain pressing on harder.

"Come on! We have to keep moving!"

I want to ask why, but I don't. He's determined now, to get us to high ground and a safe place. Since when does it rain here, anyways? Since when does the Capital Wasteland begin to take such sudden weather changes? Since I decided to turn on the Purifier five years and some odd months ago, that's when.

I go to lift my right foot, when I can't. Without thinking, I let go of Charon's wrist. The water and mud coming from somewhere farther uphill is rushing down around me, and it's mixing with our trail and it made my foot get stuck. It's like pulling it out of one of those high-powered vault vacuums. The more I try to move it out, the more stuck it gets.

"Charon!"

I call, hoping he can hear me over all the noise. Looking up, I see his faint outline. The rain blinds me, though, stinging my eyes and making me shake my head. My hair has never been this wet before, even when I would go swimming, it's never been like this. Luckily, Charon does hear me, and I see his figure hastily moving towards me.

"I'm stuck!"

I yell as he comes within earshot. I guess I don't need to tell him, though, he can see perfectly fine what the situation is.

"Come on!"

He says, and with one hand wrapped around my elbow he pulls me from the muck and up on to the not-really-solid ground. I don't put all my weight down, I let him hold me up as we walk. It's not because I'm lazy, it's just because I've never walked in anything like this before. Point Lookout was muddy, but this…this is insane. The thunder is loud, loud like standing next to Charon's shotgun as it fires, and the lightning is so bright that for two seconds literally, it feels like day. If we weren't in the middle of this mess, I'd say the rain in the Capital Wasteland was pretty or fascinating or something. But we're not somewhere safe, we're smack dab in this whole slew. It's not very fun, either.

"How much further?"

Charon yells, his hand tightening as my feet show resistance from the mud. I want to start yelling at him, I'm so stunned by his stupid question. What? Am I supposed to just _know_ or am I supposed to attempt to look at my Pip-Boy in the middle of this? The latter, I suppose. Struggling to walk, to make sure I'm holding on to him, and to keep balance, I pull up the map. We're not far off at all. As Charon half drags me through the pelting rain, I close my eyes, trying to look at him.

"Not far!"

I yell, and force myself to keep moving. It's all I can think about right now, moving and getting to where we need to be. We should be less than a mile away, and the thought of that makes my insides rage with excitement. I don't know who Agatha is, or why their house got on my map, but they had better be hospitable, or else someone's head is getting blown off. There's no way I can stand out here in this kind of weather, and live to tell about it. Well, now I'm just being dramatic. I'm sure that Charon and I could very well survive in this, it would just be a bitch and a half too. I had hoped, to get a good night's sleep, and to wake in the morning feeling rested, but I suppose that's not going to be the case.

Charon stops in front of me, and I press my face to his back on purpose. Rain hurts after a while, believe me. Your clothes and body get soaked, which adds so much more to the weight your carrying. Wet clothes also cause difficult movements, and it's even harder when your boots are all filled with mud and muck. My toes are buried in it, it feels like, and I don't think there's going to be any real way to empty them if we don't find shelter, and find it fast. I'm hoping all this water doesn't affect my gun. Not that I'm going to need it, but still. There are some crazies out here, who just may use this disadvantaging weather to their advantage.

"What's up?"

I yell, using him as a shield from the world. He lets go of my wrist for a moment, and then places his hand on the small of my back. I look up at him, but my vision is blocked by the rain hitting my eyes.

"There's a house up ahead!"

Closing my eyes because they're starting to burn, I shake my head.

"How do you know? Can you see?"

If the rain were to stop right now, I promise you we'd sound like fuckin' morons yelling at one another like this.

"It's across a rope bridge! Get on!"

I don't ask questions. If I do, then I'll get scared and cause more trouble than any of this is really worth. Instead, I listen to him. I feel him turn around, because I can't quite see just yet, and when I feel him bending over, I take no time in jumping on his back. The wind hits me, as Charon comfortably adjusts my waist, and it's a harsh, bitter, cold wind. It makes my hair stand on end, and my body shiver. The rain, after that, feels like tiny specks of coldness hitting me all over. Before I can stop it, I cling to Charon out of fear, and to get warmth. I'm shivering uncontrollably all over. How did it get so cold, so fast? I've never been anywhere cold. Except when the air systems in the vault broke, and it would either be very hot, or very cold. But it was still nothing like this. There was never small drops of cold water hitting me every which way, and a forceful wind to partner it. Charon feels me gripping him, just as I feel our coupled weight shifting as another wind blows. We're on something quite unsteady, and Charon's strong legs and expert balance are the only things keeping us alive.

I tuck my face into the nape of his neck, and time seems to slow. The noise hitting my ears becomes muffled, and the feel of our weight shifting around becomes numb. I clutch and clung to him, hoping for a safe arrival to the place Charon claims to see. My heart beats faster than any Jet makes it, and I start to shake. I suppose now, would be one of those 'moment of truths'. One of them do-or-die things people talk about. I guess if I died right now, on the back of Charon, I'd die without much regret. What does someone like me, regret anyhow? My misdeeds? The trouble I've caused? The harm I've brought to those around me? No, no none of that. My misdeeds are all repented for, with the goodness I've done throughout my life. The trouble that I seem to cause is perfectly fine. I mean, if there's a gun fight either I started it, or I'm going to finish it. If someone innocent dies in the middle, then they should have kept their head down. As for the harm, well…I can't say I don't feel bad about that. After all, it was never in my agenda to bring harm or worry to the people of Tenpenny Tower. The ghouls there, I mean. People should know, once they figure out who I am or I tell them, that harm around me just _happens_. In the past, maybe it was intentional a good percentage of the time, but here and now, it's not.

Maturity comes with age, I suppose. I wouldn't do some of the things I used to do in my past, now. A choice few, I guess, but not all. I like to try everything once, and if I like it I'll keep it around. Like Charon. I liked him, so I kept him. Even if at first, I didn't want to admit it to even myself, and even tried to hate every fiber in his being. It wasn't possible, though, and it didn't turn out that way. Remind me to thank him, if we get through this sudden onset of rain.

Charon shifting my body upwards on his back makes me pick my head up. Instantly, my face is hit with horrible, freezing rain. For the short time that I had hidden it in the nape of his neck, I was protected, and felt the warmth of his chilled body. His arms begin to slide out from under my legs, and his balance is steady, for the moment. I feel him crouching down under me, so I take the hint to get off. Removing myself, I place my hand on his upper arm to let my legs sink comfortably in the mud, before moving forward and onward. I don't see the house, until it's right on top of me. Hesitantly, I look behind me at Charon as he presses his body against my back, urging me to open the door. I suppose, as the rain hits me with each cold drop, it's now or never.


	11. I Find it Kind of Funny

Pushing open the door, I'm more than relieved to find a dry floor under my feet. I rush inside, Charon close behind. He shuts the door as I fall to an exhausted heap on the wooden floor. Man, this never felt so good. Rubbing my eyes, I shiver from the cold, as the feeling of my wet clothes really hits me. Water drips off of my hair, that's now taken to clumps of wetness on my head. It's never felt like this before, really wet and equally as heavy. I want to strip naked and let myself air-dry, but I know that's probably a bad idea.

"Who…who are you people?"

A small, sweet, feeble voice comes from somewhere behind me. Without thinking, my first instinct is to stand and tear out my gun. Which, I do. I take no time in cocking it, and letting whomever know is standing in the dim shadows of the hardly-lit room is in trouble. Charon, I hear, takes no hesitation in cocking his gun, either.

"Who's there?"

I demand, stepping closer. My boots make a 'smoosh squish' sound, as I take small steps, my finger on the trigger. A light appears, a candle, as the owner of the sweet voice makes themselves present. The flame, warm and inviting, flickers and dances upon the walls that were before only lit by an old lamp on the table. I see in front of me, the image of a small, frail, very old woman with very white hair. She looks older than Manya, in Megaton, and by far much sweeter. I feel sad, at raising my gun to her, and open it to empty the bullets. This woman is obviously no threat to Charon and I. Confidence shining in her eyes, the pale old lady takes a step towards me, when she realizes the shells on the floor are from my now-empty gun. The room is silent, the only noise being the rain that hits the house.

"My name is Agatha, and you two are unwelcomed guests in my home."

She articulates her words carefully, pronouncing them and standing with confidence equal to my own. I instantly give her my respect.

"We didn't mean to barge in. There's a storm, and we had no other shelter."

I tell her, my voice sincere. Her eyes travel up and down me, examining me as she steps forward. Behind me, I hear Charon place his gun down, and step closer to me. He rests his hand on my shoulder, and Agatha looks up at him, not a droplet of fear in her eyes.

"If we could rest here for a while, it would be much appreciated."

Charon says, as Agatha looks at him.

"You, you two seem quite familiar. Have we ever met before?"

"No, I don't think so."

I say, scratching my wet head. Agatha walks over to where the lamp sits on the table, and sets down her small candle. Folding her hands over her thighs a she stands, she looks at Charon and I.

"Oh…oh dear…oh my…"

She says, her eyes growing wide. But, I notice, they're not wide with fear. They're wide with something else, something I can't quite explain.

"You, you are that young woman. The one Three Dog would obsessively report about, the one that recently shared the story over GNR."

I nod, a smirk peeking out behind the hair that annoyingly is starting to cover my face.

"My name is Dezbe. This is Charon."

"Yes, I remember. Child, child dear, what are you doing out in this weather?"

"We were traveling, when the storm took us by surprise. This was the closest location to us at the time."

Charon and I learned long ago, well Charon longer than me, never to tell anyone where you're going. It saves them the trouble of knowing, and saves them the trouble of going through horrible interrogation if our enemies ever find out they spoke with us. It's a lot easier to be vague.

"Oh I see. My dear, you two must be affright!"

Her concern makes me chuckle, smile, and nod.

"We're not really scared, just…cold."

I tell her, as Charon takes his wet hand off of my wet shoulder.

"Rain for the first time in the Capital Wasteland, and you're not scared, child? Well, I suppose after hearing the story you told on GNR, not much can shake you now, can it?"

A smile is my response, even though deep down my stomach churns. She has no idea, of how many things truly terrify me. Of how many nights I've slept and wondered if I would open my eyes to the sun, or to death. The terrifying thoughts, of never being able to return home, of never seeing Gob and Zack, of seeing Charon die before my very eyes. Things like that, of losing those I care most about, terrify me.

"Here, I have some spare, dry clothes. They no longer fit me, so perhaps, they will be of some use to you. I might have some spare blankets lying around here, too. Charon, is it?"

Charon nods, looking up from removing the fingerless gloves he wears.

"Right, I may have something for you to wear, from a friend of mine. He is a trader, and of the same size as you. Maybe you could fit into them."

She must be talking about Crazy Wolfgang. He's the only one I've seen around here, who can almost match Charon's height. Before either one of us can answer Agatha, she vanishes into a small room in the back of the house. The one that she was in, when we barged in.

"Do you think it's safe here?"

I ask Charon as I sit down to unlace my boots. We talk in whispers, so we don't have to worry about Agatha overhearing.

"Nowhere is safe, Dez. We can't stay here long, just until the rain lets up. We have to move quickly."

"Can we at least stay until day? Or whatever, I want to get some sleep."

"I suppose, but no more than that. We don't know where the Outcasts are."

I pull off one of my boots, and the sock, too. It's muddy, and my foot is filthy. I begin to work on the other foot.

"You said you led them away from here."

"I did. I don't know for how long, though. We can't be testing the time we're already borrowing."

"Yeah, yeah you're right."

Agatha walks back into the room, so we drop our conversation. Her arms are filled with blankets, pillows, and some clothing. Charon rushes to help her, even though his boots are unlaces. He takes the weight from her arms, and sets it down on the bed in the corner. Sifting through, he tosses me the baggy Wastelander gear he finds. Finally, something dry. I don't really take the time to care if Agatha is watching or not, when I start to peel away the wet layers of armor on my body. Before I can get the top over my shoulders, Agatha runs over to me.

"Child! Child! Your arm!"

Her warm, frail, old hand wraps around the bullet wound I got a couple of days ago, when I was testing out my new, modified gun. Charon looks over at me, and at my arm. He didn't notice it before. He walks over, his hand grazing where Agatha is holding.

"Dez, where'd you get this?"

I look at the two of them, smirking, and back down at the wound. It's almost healed now, an angry bruise still surrounding it, and slightly moist blood inside of it. The bullet is still there, too. I don't have the pain tolerance, to try and dig it out.

"I got it a few days ago. Shooting off some Raiders."

"Dez, you should have…healed this."

Charon strains his voice, not wanting to say the truth.

"I wanted…"

I stop myself. No, no not tonight. Tonight, isn't the night, for conversation like that.

"I wasn't thinking."

I say, and they take their hands away so I can put my dry top on. Agatha accepts this answer, but by the look in Charon's eye, I can tell he doesn't. But he doesn't pry, at least not right now, and instead goes and begins to strip away his own wet armor. I watch for a minute, before looking back at Agatha.

"I'm sorry we barged in."

I tell her, actually feeling bad.

"On, no child, please. My home is always welcome, to those in need. I just didn't expect someone today, so suddenly."

"Thank you, for your hospitality. Are you sure it's alright we stay?"

"You're no trouble to me, child. None at all, please, stay as long as you like."

"We'll be leaving in the morning, regardless of the weather."

Charon says, and I look over at him. He's shirtless, and has his back to me. I take in the sight, because it's been so long, and I never want to forget anything about him. I want to etch his entire being into my mind, for those cold and lonely nights, when I can't find the sweet release of sleep. I watch him, as he puts the old shirt on over his head, and see the pleasure in the side of his face, at the feel of dry clothing.

"Where is it that you two are headed?"

Agatha asks, and Charon's eyes meet mine.

"Nowhere in particular. Just going out and about."

Telling her we're wanted fugitives from the Outcasts probably isn't a good idea. As much as I want to tell her, and beg her to hide me in the small, cozy and warm house forever, I can't. I simply smirk, and hide it all.

"Right I see. Listen here, you two are welcome to anything in my home, please, do help yourselves. It is late, and I wish to sleep, but I hope you will make yourselves at home."

"Thank you, Agatha, really."

"It's no trouble at all. You may sleep in the back room, it is empty there."

Nodding, I watch as she walks over to the bed Charon's standing near. He takes off the bundle of blankets that's in Agatha's way, and I smile at her as she climbs in her bed.

"Dear? Do you mind blowing out the candle when you're done? I don't wish to lose the only home I've ever had. Please, turn the lamp off and take the candle with you for light."

"Of course."

I say in a barely audible whisper. Home, that magical word. What I wouldn't give, to have a place like this, in the middle of nowhere. What I wouldn't give, to want to stay there forever, and never have the undying urge to leave and venture off and find trouble. Life, maybe then, would be a lot easier. Just…just maybe.

As Agatha makes herself comfortable on her bed, she turns to me, those kind eyes twinkling in a way I never saw before. In anyone, honestly. She gives me a smile, one might call it 'motherly' or 'comforting'. I'm not sure what I'd call it, but I know that inside, it made these beautiful emotions swirl and rise. As if, for the first time, I was feeling what it felt like, to be someone's daughter. A mother's daughter. I smile back, not fully, but a small one. Agatha blinks at me, and I feel as if she knows all. Knows why Charon and I are running, and knows that it's very dangerous of her to keep us here. I also sense, that none of that really matters to her, and she'd help us, regardless.

"Dez?"

Charon stands next to me, holding the candle. He's turned out the light, and the world is silent. Aside from the rain pelting the wooden and steel roof, the Capital Wasteland, has nothing to say back. I look at him, the candle's flame dancing off of his face. If I didn't know him, or about ghouls, or about this world even, I'd be terrified. His corpse-like face, his features highlighted by the fire. Instead, I just feel warm, in my cold, cold, skin.

"Yeah?"

I whisper, not wanting to wake Agatha who is obviously trying to sleep.

"Come on, let's go."

He leads me through the small doorway, to a small room. It's empty, minus a cabinet and an old, makeshift fridge. It's a small fridge, not the large ones I usually see. Charon hands me the candle, it's in a quaint little holder, and I smile at it as he begins to make the bed on the floor. Beneath our feet, are cold, hard, wooden planks. But, they're comfortable. More comfortable than any outside surface would offer. Even in the dim candlelight, I can still make out the rings on the boards. My father, he once told me about trees, and their rings. Said you can tell how old a tree is, by counting the rings a tree has on the inside of its trunk. Then, after that, he told me not to ever expect to see a tree. Wouldn't he be shocked now? I've seen trees, and leaves, bushes and shrubs. I haven't seen real flowers, though, or smelt them. I felt the grass beneath my bare feet once, and liked it. Felt the cold breeze hit me, as it came off of some far-away stream. Hey dad, I've felt almost everything, and seen it all, almost. But…there's one thing, that I want to see, that I haven't.

Looking over at Charon, as he tosses down the pillows and kicks around blankets, I smile a bit to myself, and it's a bit sad. I haven't seen Charon as a human. I want to, one day, hold a real picture of him in my hand. Not one seen on my Pip-Boy or terminal like I have, but a real picture. I want to know, what it's like, to dress up in dresses, and him in a suit, and go on a picnic. I read abut those in old books, picnics. Okay maybe picnicking isn't the Dez and Charon thing but dressing up like Bonnie and Clyde, hitting New Vegas and drinking cold beers as the hot sun rose over the New Nevada desert…yeah, that's me and Charon. By the by, Bonnie and Clyde are like, this ancient civilization's version of what me and Charon are today. Only, it's allowed now, and back then I guess they were pretty strict. Didn't want women and men robbing banks. I don't know why, though.

"Going to lie down?"

I pick my head up, and nod. Sitting down Indian-style next to Charon, I blow the candle out, working my legs beneath the warm blankets. In the dark, Charon lights two half-wet cigarettes. I can see the flames of mine, of them, as he hands it to me.

"What were you thinkin' about over there?"

"Bonnie and Clyde."

I spit out, before stopping myself. While my eyes adjust, I look at Charon. Why, I believe that emotion across his face is 'disbelief'.

"What? You know about that? Dez, that's nearly four-hundred years ago…"

I shrug, flicking loose ashes to the wooden floor beside the bed.

"The vault was pretty limited in history, but when I got out, I found this old book in the Springvale school…thing. It had a small bio on them. They were criminals, weren't they."

"Right, bank robbers during the Great Depression."

I never heard of that. Was everyone sad? I decide not to ask and to keep on the topic of Bonnie and Clyde.

"So…they were like us. Criminals, right?"

"Very lightly like us, I suppose. Their heads were wanted, and they killed quite a few."

"What happened to them?"

"They died, killed by police."

"Police?"

"Really old version of the Brotherhood. Like a Brotherhood Initiate."

I nod, acknowledging his analogy. I wish I could picture those two in my head, but I can't. Aside from the really old, half-burnt, and weathered book I paged through, there's not much of an image of them. Just a few scratchy lines defining a face with no real features. Poking my cigarette out, I lie down, the hard surface is surprisingly comfortable as I pull the blanket to my chin.

"Like us, then."

Charon doesn't speak, as he puts his own cigarette out. He lays down beside me, rolling on his side. A protective, strong arm reaches over my body. I'm glad I have him, you know. There's an understanding between us that I don't think I could have with anyone else in the world, no matter how hard I try. A connection, that can't be put into words. With me from the dawn of my time in the Capital Wasteland, I suppose Charon will be with me till the end. I know, and accept, people like us don't go on to live long, happy lives. There will be no images or pictures of us, to live on after we pass. No recorded history, aside from the villainized version the Brotherhood writes about. There won't be stories about us, that people tell their children, and will carry on after our deaths. We both know, that soon we'll die out here. By the hands of an enemy, or a stray bullets ending our reckless adventures. Who knows? Maybe even by our own hands, in the heat of a brutal argument. I can't tell you how it ends, our story, but I can tell you if I wasn't me, but someone else, and heard my story, I'd tell it. I'd tell it and tell it loudly, of the girl who came from the vault, caused mayhem and macabre incidents. All while looking good doing it, and holding the hand of a ghoul mercenary, trained to kill.

As Charon's breathing shallows, and sleep takes him over, I trace my fingertips over his arm. Our story, the one we have together, may die with us. No one, will know of these moments. The ones like this, where Charon and I fight to survive, and hold one another in the night, knowing that without one, we aren't whole. Knowing that this dependency we have on each other, is life or death. It's just us, who knows this, and just us who knows how it all ends. And strangely, as my eyelids feel heavier and heavier, as the rain hits and the thunder falls on deaf ears, I'm alright with that.


	12. I Have Been Made New

It's so cold. So…so cold. With my eyes clenched tight, I shiver as I pull my half-sleeping self into the fetal position. Pulling the blanket over me more, I shiver mercilessly. No matter how hard I try, I can't get back to sleep. It's too cold. I've never felt this kind of cold before. Shivering like this, feeling like I just walked into the vault freezer naked. Prying my eyes open, I don't dare poke my head out from under the blanket. I know I have to, though, and I do. Breathing outward, I see my breath. Of course my first instinct is that I somehow lit and smoked a cigarette in my sleep. I haven't though, I know this as I wrap the blanket around me. It doesn't do much.

"Charon?"

I call out, not seeing him anywhere in the room. Heavy footsteps ring in my ears, as he pokes his head in from the main room. He's wearing his armor, he doesn't look half as cold as I do. Is it just me? Am I sick?

"Ch-Charon I'm f-f-f-freezing."

I stutter, shivering, my teeth hitting against themselves. He walks over to me, kneeling down. Using his hands he tries to warm me, and it helps, but only a little.

"You need to get dressed. You won't believe this."

My voice is cracking and stuttering. His, on the other hand, is perfectly normal. I glare at him, still cold, as he gets up and gathers my dry clothing for me. Standing up, he helps me into it. It does nothing to warm me up, and he knows this. In a last-ditch effort, he takes the heavy sweater he wore last night, the Wastelander one, and puts it over my head. It helps, I guess, but I'm still cold. Even my gun is freezing, as I pick it up and clip it to my waist under the sweater. Charon watches me, and I know something is up by the look in his eyes.

"Charon why-why is it s-s-so c-c-old?"

This stuttering thing is going to drive me _mad_. My toes are numb already, and this isn't going to be a fun day.

"I have no idea, what exactly is going on out there, but you had best come quick. We have to move out."

Charon leaves the room, and I follow. Agatha is sitting in an old rocking chair, beside an old radio. She's bundled up in blankets, so I guess I'm not the only one freezing to death.

"Leaving already?"

She asks, and Charon answers for me. Thank god, or else I would have offed myself mid-stutter.

"We have to get going. It isn't safe for you, if we stay much longer."

Even though Charon's words hold a powerful warning, Agatha simply smiles, and rocks back and forth in her chair.

"Well, be safe you two, and come by again soon."

I nod in thanks, not wanting to open my mouth. As we pass her, I brush her hand in mine. She's warm, and I want to sit in her arms like a small kid, and cuddle the shit out of her. But instead I follow Charon out the door. When he opens it, a blast of cold air hits me like a ton of bricks, and my foot falls into a six-inch hole of this white, flour-looking thing.

"What the f-f-fuck?"

I say, my breath acting like smoke as I speak. Staring down, I watch this odd substance, and watch as Charon makes deep footprints in it. What is this? It can't be ash from a fire, or mud from last night. Although, there is definitely mud under there somewhere. No, this stuff is white, and fluffy-looking. Picking my head up, I look around and see, the entire Capital Wasteland is covered in it. And it is fucking beautiful.

"Ch-Ch-aron? W-w-w-what is t-t-this. F-f-uck!"

Shivering all over, even with the sweater, makes it difficult to speak.

"This, is snow, Dezbe. It's snow…"

His voice. I've never heard it like that before. It's…it's almost whimsical. Can you believe it? Charon's raspy, guttural, _accent_ed voice, is whimsical. I look up at him, and damned if for just a minute, he doesn't look like a ten-year-old in the vault on his birthday. Charon, what makes this 'snow' stuff so amazing to you? It's cold, wet, not at all too appealing once touched, and really isn't fun to wake up in the middle in. But…then again…looking at it, as it covers the Capital Wasteland like a thick, warm blanket, I notice it glitters. The pitiful rays of sun that poke through the gray sky above us, hit this 'snow' in just the right way where…it nearly sparkles. The dead trees are frozen, encased with it, and when you step, it makes a 'crunch' sound. Charon looks at it, as if this very substance brings back fond memories he wish he had. I know Charon, at least, I hope I do. With what we've been through, and what he's told me, I can guess any fond memories he might have, are with me and the person, John, he mentioned before. But I wonder, if this cold, and beautiful 'snow', is somehow a soft-spot for him, and if anything else, a metaphor.

"Charon?"

Even though a cold breeze hits my bare calves, and the snow around my ankles freezes me with every step, I walk towards him. There's no way to be stealthy in this. Charon doesn't say anything, he just turns to look at me, his hands buried in the pockets of his leather armor pants. His gun, securely strapped to his back, and his cold, blue eyes reflecting off of the white 'snow'. Reaching out, I touch his arm. His sleeve is cold, but I can feel his warm skin under it.

"When was the last time you saw snow?"

He looks at his feet, and then out towards the distance. Without word, he walks towards where we need to go, and I dutifully follow.

"Before the bombs fell, was the last time it snowed."

"You were with John then, weren't you?"

His silence tells me he's not just shocked by my memory, but pleased. I guess he didn't expect me to listen, and to take what he had to share into heart. I always listen to him, though, and I always take what he says into heart. Since we first met, I hang and cling to every word he speaks.

"Yes. I was. It snowed like this, and it was just as beautiful then, as it is now."

"Is it a good memory?"

The conversation and walking helps my body forget the cold. I can speak easier, more fluently, and the shivers aren't as bad.

"I suppose. Compared to now, I don't think it is, but, compared to then it was the best memory I ever had."

"Will you tell me?"

"Maybe some other time."

I can understand that. Understand, wanting to keep certain things for yourself. No one truly knows anybody. I can know Charon, or claim to know him, as much as I want. But the fact is, we're both still a mystery to one another. Just as I am a mystery to Gob, and he is to me. Our minds keep it that way, those dark corners of space it takes us to, in distress and maybe even happiness. There are things, that I've never spoken of. Secrets that I won't share. They're the secrets that drive you, make you, the ones that define who you are as a person, and what you become in the future. But no one talks about those memories. Instead, they blame it on the actions happening around them. As if they need an outward justification for everything, rather than accepting the subconscious trails of what they and only they, know. Maybe that's what makes me so different, so special. In my mind, I never fought the demons, really. I accepted, that those memories that cause me pain, and make me cringe on the inside, are what makes me. Me, may change in time, due to circumstances and whatnot, but me…always comes back. In the end, we always truly know who we are, but those around us, all see a different, skewed version of that. Who I am, and as Charon or Gob sees me, are three different people. What I know, what Charon knows, and what Gob knows. Although the same, they have their differences. No one…no one is consistent in who they are. I'm okay with that. I am. And it makes me the most hated thing in the Capital Wasteland.

Charon walks onward, cold and silent. I follow, obedient, and probably even colder than he is. Snow crunches beneath my feet, the excitement of its newness gone, and replaced with annoyance at the uncomfortable travel it makes. I can say this, I hate the cold. I truly, utterly, hands down hate it. It's stupid and in my eyes, unnecessary. But it marks a special moment. It marks change in the Capital Wasteland. Change that, really, I don't want to admit. Hopefully not in my lifetime, this place is going to become a big city once again. Civilized and different. Right now, as a barren desert, it's all I know. Change for me…change sometimes…isn't great

"You still back there?"

Charon calls, and I look up. He stops walking and turns to look for me. I'm far behind, but nothing critical. Jogging, I frown at my numb and wet toes. Wait, I can't really feel my toes.

"Charon…"

I say, stopping and looking down.

"What?"

"My toes! My toes! I can't feel my toes!"

Sighing, he jogs over to me, as I begin to panic. Why on earth would they be numb? The coldness, maybe but numb to the point where if I try to move them, I _can't_? That's…that's just straight up insanity! Scratching my head, I look up at Charon who joins me. Bending down he kneels in the snow and touches my ankle.

"Hm."

It's all he says before he stands again. He looks at the sky, then looks around.

"We should find a place to take shelter in. Getting too cold results in frostbite. You're not used, to this kind of weather. Things might take a turn for the worse."

"Frostbite?"

"Where your limbs get cold, turn black, and have to be amputated."

My face falls with worry, and I stare at Charon, shocked.

"What?"

He asks. Could he have been any more blunt with his description? I stomp my numb foot in the snow, and hit mud. My boot slips from under me and I fall flat on my backside. Around my peripheral vision, is snow, and all I can hear is Charon's guttural laughter.

"It's not funny!"

I yell, trying to get up. That fails, as my palm hits mud and slides away, causing me to just fall again. Charon laughs louder. I groan, trying to prove a point and not laugh myself.

"Come on! Help me out!"

He walks over, grabbing my wrist. Pulling me up, I notice he's still smiling. I start smiling too, and push him in the snow. Pointing my finger, I stick my tongue out.

"Don't forget, it's still me you're laughing at."

Charon shakes his head, laughing a bit more and I join in. Just because our circumstances are dire, doesn't mean we have to constantly be cynical. Gathering snow in his hands as he rises, Charon forms it into a small ball and throws it at me. It hits me in the back, and I smirk.

"It's on, buddy. It's on."

We prance through the snowy Capital Wasteland, throwing balls of snow at one another. The fear of enemies is quieted by the weather, and stifled by our moment of childhood silliness. I hit Charon in the head, and he tackles me full-force in the snow. My hair gets wet, and I take a handful of the white stuff and shove it down the back of his armor. Laughing my ass off, I watch him frantically jump around trying to get it out. I even go so far as to slap my knees.

"Dezbe!"

Charon calls, as he finally gets the last bit of snow out. Wiping the corners of my eyes, I look at him, and his calm disposition. He has a mischievous look on his face, and good-sized ball of snow in his hand. I run, knowing his plot. He chases me, and as Charon always does, catches me. He gets me to the ground, and I'm greeted by a face-full of cold, wet, snow. But I'm laughing too hard to care. Charon's weight pins me down in the snow and mud, but I don't mind. Even as I rub my face clean with my cold arm, I'm still smiling. He looks down at me, at my wet face, and smiles. I smile, too. It's a rare, quiet, perfect moment here, and I want to enjoy it.

"Hey."

I say, and he puts his palms on either side of my face. Bending down, his not-there-nose almost touches mine. Chills run down my spine, not from the cold, but from the feel of Charon's fingers entwining with mine. The cold, the cold doesn't even matter, because Charon's pulsing heartbeat warms mine. Even through the layers of clothes and armor. Bombs could fall now, and I wouldn't even notice.

"Got somethin' to say, big boy?"

I mock, licking the tip of his not-there-nose. He kisses my chin, shaking his head and smirking.

"No, not at all."

He takes a deep whiff of my neck, and sighs.

"What's that for?"

I ask, wiggling beneath him.

"Just realizing, that my armor smells like you."

We kiss, and he lets me up. Picking me up from the mud and snow, Charon puts me on his back, my legs around his waist. I hold on to his shoulders and neck, admiring the view from a new height, as he walks.

"So we're looking for a house?"

I ask, scanning the white and barren miles ahead. Checking my Pip-Boy, I make sure we're still heading the right way. We are, and I settle back to holding on to his shoulders.

"Yes. You need to get warm. The sun should show, and melt the snow within a day or two. But I don't want you to get too cold before then. We don't want you losing toes."

I grip his waist with my thighs in play, as I look out ahead.

"There, I see one, on the horizon."

Pointing, Charon follows my finger. He sees the small dot of an abandoned house on the horizon, and nods.

"We don't have much time, but it's better to have you at full health than not."

"Charon, I feel fine. Just…not my toes is all."

"Without toes, you cannot walk, Dez. How able-bodied are you then?"

"Well, I can still crawl, can't I?"

"Your determination is amusing."

I kiss the top of his head, and begin belting out an old song Three Dog used to play. Three Dog doesn't play songs anymore. He's gotten a bit too political for my taste. He needs to play songs. Songs, are what makes everything right in the world.

"Maybeeeeee you'll think of meeee!"

I screech, locking my legs outward and howling to the hidden moon in the daytime cloudy sky.

"Maybe, the one who, is waiting for youuuuuu…"

"Stop it."

"Mayyybeeeee! You'll sit and sighhhhh! Wishing that I were nearrrrr!"

"Stop."

"Maybe, you'll ask me, to come back againnnnnn annnnd maaayybeee I'll say mayyybeee!"

Charon drops me from his back, and I land in the soft snow.

"You can walk just fine."

There's humor in that snide remark. Shrugging, I pick myself up and join him by his side. Just as it has been since I left the vault, and just as it will be for many years to come.

"So you got a smoke?"

I ask, nudging him with my elbow. Reluctantly, he pulls some out and lights them. One for me, and one for him. If I keep moving, the cold doesn't bother me as much, and I can feel a pins and needles type sensation in my toes.

"People are going to flip when we get to The Pitt."

I say, sighing.

"Why's that?"

"Because there's no ghouls there, Charon. Just Trogs and crazy people. I don't even think they've ever seen a ghoul."

"Then won't they attack?"

"No, probably not. After all, I played a big part in liberating them."

"How will they remember you? You have changed, and sometimes people forget faces."

The scar on my side catches my eye, as my stomach shows. I look down at it, and graze my fingertips over it.

"They'll remember, Charon."

His fingers meet mine on the scar. I can feel him, his skin, tracing it up to where my top begins, and down to where my pants end. In the little cove that it is, Charon's fingers run. We keep walking, in silence, and Charon starts to look around.

"You know, the Capital Wasteland is starting to remind me, of the _Divine Comedy_."

He says, blinking slowly.

"Didn't you tell me about that before? The levels of Hell, right? The Ninth Circle?"

"Yes, I mentioned it. A descriptive tale of Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise."

"Purgatory?"

"Where one does not live, but does not die. The middle world, as Earth can be described as. Between Hell, and Paradise."

"So…we're in purgatory?"

"No, no we're alive. Purgatory is a place where you go if you have sinned, but not enough to go to Hell, and are not pure enough to enter Heaven. At least, that's the dumbed-down explanation."

"How does the Capital Wasteland remind you of this story?"

"You'd have to read it to understand."

I look up at him, watching as he smokes and the smoke leaves his mouth and not-there-nose. I haven't read the story, so I can't see what he sees. I don't try to, either. Sometimes, I don't want to see how his mind works. Charon's mind, can be a scary place, too.

"Were you religious, Charon?"

He looks down at me, a wind blows. It feels like I shouldn't have asked.

"In educational value, yes. In a spiritual way, no. I knew of it, of the religions, and can talk of them in an educated manner. But, as a belief system, I can't."

"Why? Aren't you a walking epitome of religion?"

Charon shrugs, tossing his cigarette into the snow. I hear it hiss out, as the wetness extinguishes the flame.

"I suppose, I you want to say that, we all are. I won't deny there have been times, when I've recited biblical prayers in times of dire stress for comfort. But, I don't believe in them as some would. It's more of a philosophical view than anything else."

"How so?"

"Knowing you were named, because of how well and efficiently you are able to kill and bring death upon others, gives a lot of room to think."

"Amen, brother."

Charon chuckles and takes his hand off of my waist. We get closer to the abandoned house, but not close where it's offering of warmth from the snow if comforting. Just close enough to see it better.

"Look, Dez."

We stop walking, and I look to where Charon's looking. Off to the left, within earshot, is someone dressed as a Scribe. Instantly, I pull out my gun. Where there's one Brotherhood member, there's ten. Charon pulls his gun, and we exchange glances.

"Which Scribe is it?"

He asks me, as if I know. With the snow all around, there's no place to easily hide. Our black-based armor gives us away with the white backdrop.

"Can't tell."

I reply, taking in a deep breath. The Scribe walks steadily, if not quickly, and their back is to us. I make the choice to run, and Charon follows. Our footsteps, due to the snow, are loud. When I'm trying to concentrate, all I can hear is the crunching beneath my feet. The Scribe hears us, before we have a chance to be on top of them. Stopping, I raise my gun as they turn around.

"Don't shoot!"

Bigsley. Scribe fuckin' Bigsley. He puts his arms up, as Charon and I walk towards, guns raised. There's no one around him, that we can see, and it's unusual for someone like a Scribe to be walking around the Capital Wasteland freely.

"What are you doing out here?"

I demand, cocking my gun. Bigsley is obviously scared, but I can't tell if he's shivering from fear or the cold. He stares at me, his face contorting into confusion, then recognition.

"Oh…oh lord…oh shit it's _you_!"

"Answer me!"

I demand, not caring if he recognizes me or not.

"I…I was heading back to the…the Purifier!"

Behind me, Charon growls. We're on guard, ready to fight.

"Where's the rest? Where's the Brotherhood?"

"Brotherhood? What? I…I'm alone I swear!"

Charon cocks his own gun, and advances on Bigsley. Grabbing him by the back of the robe, he forces Bigsley down on his knees.

"Please…please don't kill me…"

He sobs like a bitch. I roll my eyes and give him a well-needed kick to the ribs.

"Where's the rest of the Brotherhood!"

"I'm alone…I'm alone…just let me go back to the Purifier…please…please…"

"It's not common for a Scribe to wander alone."

Charon says, angry and suspicious.

"I am…I am. I was traveling with a caravan. The rain…the snow…the Brahmin was killed, mercenary, killed. We were going to the Jefferson Memorial…please…I'm telling the truth…I swear…"

"What were you doing out here?"

Charon's demanding, now. He wants answers, and I do too. After all, our safety is at risk now. Well, more than it was before.

"Research…the climate…the weather…we came to collect samples and question the locals. I swear that's all, I swear."

He sobs at our feet. Charon lowers his gun, and I do the same. He looks at me, and I look back.

"What do you want to do with him?"

I ask Charon, putting my gun on my waist.

"He's seen us. We can't trust him to go running back to the others."

"But we can't kill him, or they'll know we're out and about."

I argue, even though I know killing him would be the easier alternative, it would also be a big clue. After all, is a Raider really going to be out hunting in this? No. If the Outcasts find him, we're a dead prime suspect.

"We'll have to take him with us, until we can figure out what to do. Get up."

Charon says, and I'll admit I'm shocked by his boldness. Bigsley gets up, scared, and with good reason.

"You…you're not killing me?"

"We want to, trust me."

I quip as Charon looks him up and down. Another harsh, cold wind hits, and I shiver.

"Give her your robe."

Charon says, and Bigsley looks at him with confusion.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Folding his arms, Charon watches as Bigsley takes off his robe. Beneath it, he wears thin pants and a thin shirt. I _knew_ those robes weren't really a full outfit! Either way, he listens and I wrap the robe around me. It's made of a heavy fabric, and the weight of it on my shoulders makes me slouch a bit, but it's warm. I need warm, right now, too.

"But…but I may freeze…"

"Better than a bullet to the brain. It'll make it more believable, if the Outcasts find you."

Charon pushes Bigsley ahead of him. Bigsley walks, still scared, and with good reason. Folding my own arms as we walk, I let the robe warm me, but my toes are still cold. The snow crunches, and Bigsley moves his hands up and down his bare arms to try to make himself warmer.

"Don't try anything."

I say, feeling powerful.  
"Like what? This is worse than working at the stupid Purifier, and I never thought there was anything worse than that."

"Shut up."

Charon says. We don't mean to be this mean. Actually, I take that back, we do. But, here's the thing. We have Bigsley with us, maybe not forever, maybe not tomorrow, but right now we do. When we get to the safety of the house, I figure we can work on interrogating him as to what's going on with the Brotherhood.

"How far is the house from where we must go?"

Charon whispers, not wanting Bigsley to hear. Pulling up my Pip-Boy, I locate the house on the map, and scan over to the train tunnel.

"Not far, a quarter of a day's walk."

"Good. We'll rid ourselves of Bigsley somehow after we've warmed up, and head there quickly."

"What about the house?"

"Exactly. After we've warmed up. Think he knows anything?"

I shrug, and eye up the unsuspecting Bigsley. He looks back at me, a bit unexpected, and in his eyes I see something. A gentle flash, it's there one second and gone before you can even really notice it. But I notice it, and I don't like the feelings it stirs up inside. Looking back up at Charon, I pull the robe tighter around me.

"Not sure. Scribes are more of the…bookworms of the Brotherhood. Figure if anything goes down, the weapons specialist would know more."

"But didn't he used to be a weapons specialist?"

"He did. Maybe you're on to something, Charon."

Charon nods as we continue on. Bigsley shivers, his arms and hands moving up and down trying to create heat. But the wind feels a bit warmer, or maybe it's just the feel of the robe. Looking up, I notice the sky isn't as murky gray as it once was earlier. It's lighter, as if the sun is going to force it's way through any moment. If that happened, I'd just sit outside in the mud and let the hot, hot sun warm every inch and bone in my body. After all, there's nothing wrong with that, I don't think.

"Where are we going?"

Bigsley asks, looking back and looking as pitiful as ever. The thing I saw earlier in his eyes is gone. I can't say now, or then, what it was exactly, but it was certainly something.

"Just walk, Bigsley."

I say, and he clenches his jaw. His eyes narrow a bit, and I can tell he's biting his tongue. Well, he's going to have a lot of sores from doing that. Can tell you that fact right now.

"I never expected, to be stuck out here, in the middle of the Capital Wasteland, with _you_."

He spits 'you' out like it's a bad taste. I scowl back, closing the small gap between us with a quicker pace.

"Well look where you are. I guess miracles _can_ happen here, eh Bigsley?"

I put my arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a sarcastic, buddy-like hold. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes tell me he wants to start a grand verbal argument.

"We're gonna be best friends, Bigsley, I can feel it."

Bigsley frowns, pulling away from me. The house comes closer to us, it's strong build and decrepit wood showing age from change and more recently, weather. I wonder if it stayed dry?

"No, we're not. You and that ghoul there are going to do to me, exactly what you did to your father."

I stop walking. My father? No one…no one has really talked about him in…well…a long time. I stare at Bigsley, feeling a mixture of anger, and curiousness, with a pinch of sadness tossed in there for extra flavor.

"My father? What…what did I do?"

I didn't do anything to him. To the great and wonderful scientist James, of first the Jefferson Memorial and then Vault 101. The only thing I ever did, was strive to be his daughter, and earn the love I was so wrongfully robbed of. The only thing…I can think of where I might have hurt him…is when I spent so much time delaying finding him. I wonder, if maybe, Bigsley knows something I don't.

"Don't play stupid. _Every_one knows. After all, Scribes have to write down all that goes on. History."

"Well then maybe you can refresh my memory. You see there was a time when I thought I lost my mind."

I say, tapping the scar on my temple slightly. Bigsley looks at it, swallowing hard. He knew about that whole cover-up then, and he knows I'm going to pick a bone about it later. The fear of him knowing that I know he knows about that whole ordeal, is enough to scare him into telling me everything. Well, not everything, but just about my dad, which is what I really want to know right now.

"You killed him, remember now?"

Killed him? _I_ killed him? Oh, no, no, no, no. You see, there's a _great_ misconception right there. Now I know I lost my mind a while back, but you see it's returned. Maybe a bit foggy and headachy here and there, but I know what I know. I did _not_ kill my father. I loved him, even if back then, I was too stubborn to outright say it. He was my dad, exactly one half of me, and I loved him endlessly.

Stopping, I stare at Charon. He had stopped walking too, and fixated his eyes on Bigsley. I could be angry right now, but oddly enough, I just feel a deep sense of exhaustion and defeat. If the Brotherhood are telling people that _I_ killed my father…then I suppose I know why, everyone out here hates me. Who you gonna believe? Me, or the men in shiny armor who just saved your family from a Super Mutant Master? Yeah, that's what I thought.

"I never killed my father, Bigsley."

I say, calm, rational. He looks at me, the way I'd expect anyone else to when I told the truth: like a fool. In fact, I half expect him to smile and laugh. The corners of his mouth twitch a bit.

"You mean to tell me that Elder and Sara Lyons lied? When _you_ were the cause of nearly the _entire_ force of the Brotherhood wipeout?"

"Actually I do, seeing as how it was the Outcasts who came up with that idea. Who now, incidentally, are the bad ones. See I thought the Brotherhood was too good to be true. Bunch of noble-ass people running around saving helpless civilians from the evils of the Capital Wasteland. No one is really that nice, without having a price, and whoops look at that they did."

"So you don't feel bad about killing a bunch of innocent lives?"

"Innocent? Bigsley, the Brotherhood was probably the most corrupt thing to happen to the Capital Wasteland. We're better off on our own. After all, it was Casdin who planted that bomb, not me."

"I highly doubt your theory."

"Doubt what you want but I didn't kill my father."

"Sara Lyons saw you do it herself. Said you raised the pistol, and shot him square in the face. Then the Enclave intervened, captured you, and there you handed over the Purifier information willingly."

"So I work for the Enclave now?"

"Up until you two-timed them you did."

I put my hands up in the air to shut him up. Charon steps forward and gives him a good whack on the head. Nothing serious, but something saying he had best just stop now. Working for the Enclave, huh? Figures. My reluctance to help them straight away with their really important Purifier mission so long ago must have really torn them up inside. I mean, since I was so adamant on not helping them, I must have been working for the Enclave. Or even better, the Talons! Oh, what a riot. I suppose my scars and markings are just for show, right?

Shaking my head, I step over Bigsley's legs as he picks himself up from the snow. Charon didn't mean to knock him down, simply stun him a bit, but hey it's slippery here. The house isn't far off, and my toes are killing me. Besides, I want to get inside, bolt the doors, get warm and get what I want out of Bigsley. Then, I want to smash his face in and go to The Pitt and then go somewhere from there.

"By the way, Bigsley, Colonel Autumn killed my father. I watched it happen behind the glass doors of the Rotunda. And the Enclave didn't take me away that night, either."

He stares up at me, as he finally gets off of his ass. Our eyes meet, and I flip my hair back behind my shoulder.

"I went back to Megaton with Charon. I stayed there, and I mourned my father, like I've never mourned anyone before or after. Just, so you know. Ya know?"

I don't want to see his face, I don't want to hear his response. I just simply walk ahead. Bigsley behind me, Charon behind him. A small, angry caravan of people. If we did see someone right now, a Raider or Outcast, I don't think I'd care to much. The kill wouldn't give me a euphoric high, I probably wouldn't even draw my gun. Right now, my mind is just swimming and swimming with the 'what if's' and the 'what have they said' questions. If everyone in this free world here, where I stand, this Capital Wasteland, truly believes what I have said over the word of my own voice on the GNR station, then they aren't worth my time. They never have been, they never will be. They are nothing.


	13. If My Heart Was A House

In the house, Charon piles wood into something he calls a 'fireplace'. It doesn't sound safe to me, to start a fire in something made of wood, but he assures me that since the 'fireplace' is made of brick, it'll be alright. Whatever he says, I suppose. While he does that, I took it upon myself to drag an old mattress down from the upper level. After clearing away the coffee table, the same one Charon is smashing and throwing into the fire, I spread the blanket over the mattress, and put it down. Bigsley sits, scared and cold on the couch. The robe kept me warm, and once the familiar 'click' of Charon's lighter is heard, my toes crinkle with excitement.

Sitting down, I take off my boots and wet socks. Charon has a small flame going, and takes my socks. He sets them on the edge of the top of the 'fireplace'. I give him a funny look, while he sits beside me and begins unlacing his own boots.

"To dry them."

He says, and I nod. I wiggle my toes, as the fire catches to the dry wood. Instantly, I feel the warm glow of it, and my bones begin to defrost.

"What are you going to do with me?"

Bigsley asks, but we ignore him and keep our backs to him. He sits on a chair, because Charon moved the couch in front of the door. Try to escape now, bitch. I don't mind, spending one more night in the Capital Wasteland, but I think Charon does. As he tugs his wet socks off and puts them next to mine, I can see the nervousness in his eyes. When he sits back down, he sits with his back to the fire. I lie down, and look at Bigsley sitting, with my head on one of the two pillows. Ah, comfort.

"You're going to tell us all we want to know, and you better tell us the truth."

I say, rubbing my cold face, and closing my eyes.

"Oh, am I?"

"If you want to live, anyways."

Charon says, and I open my eyes to see him sharpening his combat knife with a small rock he keeps in the sheath. I want to always ask what it's for, but I guess now I have my answer. It's a sharpening rock. Nifty. Glancing at Bigsley, I roll on my stomach and take the robe off. Maneuvering my body under the blanket, I rest my head on my arms. He looks scared for his life, and he damn well should be. Bigsley sighs, and I can see the change in his face.

"What do you want to know?"

I leave the questioning up to Charon. Right now, my main focus is on the little things. Like I said I would notice. Like my toes warming comfortably, and the heat rising up my body slowly.

"What is the Brotherhood up to? We know the Outcasts are calling in reinforcements from the West Coast faction."

"…They want to rebuild the Citadel, and enforce structure and civilization in the Capital Wasteland. Why you two are against it, is a mystery to me."

"What about the weather?"

I pipe in, not caring in Bigsley's skewed information on the moving forces of the Brotherhood.

"The weather?"

I nod at him.

"The climate change. What's with that? Said you were studying it. Prove it, then."

"We suspect that since the Capital Wasteland now has clean water, and the radiation levels are dropping, that the atmosphere is changing. A cloud of radiation has consumed the sky around this land, with pure water literally filtering it out, the natural patters of the Earth is starting to take effect. The rapid change, is simply a sped-up process of it, caused by the Great War. Like sped-up ghoulification."

Even though he's informative, he talks like he's a know-it-all-bigot. Charon and I exchange glances, and I keep my mouth shut.

"And what does this mean for the citizens? Both the Brotherhood moving in and the change in weather."

Charon asks, and I light a cigarette.

"It means the rebuilding of a new era. Hope, that soon, the Capital Wasteland will once again be the bustling city it was over two-hundred years ago. It might take just as long, to rebuild it, but it's time. The Brotherhood are going to stop at nothing, to make this change happen."

"Even if the people are against it?"

"What?"

"The people here have been living and getting along fine, since the fires were put out, Bigsley. What makes you, or the Brotherhood, think they know what's best for a general population. Most of which, have been around a lot longer than you'd like to admit."

"Are you telling me you're a pre-war ghoul?"

"No, I'm asking you if the opinion of the people matters, when thinking of the greater good."

"It's for the best."

"But is it what they want? Or what the Brotherhood thinks is right?"

"The Brotherhood has never done wrong by me."

I raise my hand and flick ashes at Bigsley.

"Except screw you over and put you in a room doing useless paperwork. And lying about everything. And making me out to be a monster."

"You are a monster."

Charon and I both look at Bigsley, shocked by his boldness. We're silent, but not stunned. There's just no need for violence. He stares at us for a bit, but continues on.

"You killed your own father, after killing those you grew up around in the vault, stole the code to activate the Purifier, gave it to the Enclave, after starting the Purifier you cause an abundance of trouble for everyone, prove to be a threat, infiltrate the Citadel, escape, and return only to blow it up. That's just a tidbit, of what I know of you, Dez. What I don't know, is what you've done in between those moments that I'm sure are far worse than any other crimes."

Smirking, I toy with the cigarette in my hand.

"You know, Bigsley, in the Capital Wasteland there _are_ no crimes. I've done nothing wrong by law, since it's lawless, and nothing wrong by moral since, well, you obviously have your morals fucked up."

"Excuse me?"

"I think imprisoning a wounded girl, brainwashing her to believe a well-kept lie, and planning to use said girl for the advancement of militaristic people to overtake a society that gets along perfectly fine without them, is more frowned upon than any 'morals' you may have. But you did that, didn't you?"

"Elder Lyons was doing what was best for the greater good. You're a danger to everyone here!"

"A danger, when I was the one who risked my life, to give to you the opportunity to receive clean water? What a danger."

"You've killed people, infiltrated bases, gotten in the way, and messed up years and years of work."

"Bigsley, not to sound cocky but that sounds _just_ like the Brotherhood now, doesn't it?"

His face turns red. He gets up, but Charon and I stay put. Angry, he storms up stairs and slams a bedroom door. Charon looks at me, and I shrug.

"I nailed the windows shut."

I say, and Charon laughs. Feeling relaxed, I guess, he takes off the top half of his armor, and his belt. I make room for him beside me on the bed. Beneath the blanket, which is quite warm, Charon and I warm our feet by the light of the fire.

"Dez?"

Charon says, putting an arm around me.

"Yeah?"

"Didn't what he say, bother you?"

Half-frowning, I shrug a bit. The fire pops and crackles, the warmth of it still finding its way around the room.

"You get use to it, I guess. Who really believes me in the end, anyways?"

Charon brushes hair from my face, kissing my forehead.

"I do."

"Because you were there to see it."

"I would, even if I wasn't."

I pick up his hand, and put my fingers between his. Gently, I kiss each of his knuckles, showing him in a small way how much I need him.

"Whatever happens, though, I'm just glad we can go through it together."

I say, a rare moment of appreciation. Charon smiles, still holding my hand, as he looks at me.

"As am I, Dezbe."

A kiss ensures the truth, and I enjoy his taste. The fire pops something loud, and it makes me jump. Charon laughs at it, and I sit up. He puts his arm around my shoulder, as I stare at the fire, and pulls me into him. Smiling, I sigh, as I close my eyes and push my head into him. Chills run down my spine, while our fingers entwine. It's a rare, slow moment, that I want to appreciate and enjoy.

"Don't leave me ever again."

I tell him sternly.

"I should say the same."

"I feel at home, when I'm with you, Charon."

Without even realizing it, I make a drastic realization. Charon kisses my head, and I look at him, analytical and serious. I've never had a home. Aside from the vault, I've never had a place where I could run to. A place, where when the world is too much, I could simply close the door and escape for a few short moments. The house in Megaton was short-lived, and living in a town where you could hear the voices of people talking about you just outside your door, isn't fun. Rockopolis didn't last long, either, and somehow I don't think a cave is very 'homey'. I guess the vault was the best home I'd ever had, unless…if you want to count something else.

I may not have a home. I may not have a warm bed, or a room of my own, or anything of the sorts, but I have Charon. Smiling, I remember how it was when we first met. The memories of a time long ago, playing in front of me, while he watches the fire. I don't have a home, a place of my own to call it, but I have him. I have him beside me, constantly, unrelenting. He's the closest thing to a home I've ever had. Beside him, I know I can be myself. His presence offers a comfort that I don't think anyone else can give me.

"Hey, Charon?"

He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. I smile at him. I smell him, I smell like him, and his touch is nearly incomparable. Kissing his lips, I press my cheek against his. Hugging him, I close my eyes really tight.

"You're North, on my compass."

I say and he pats my head. I guess…well…in a sense I have a home. Maybe not something like this, the place we're staying in, but it's something. Something, in my book, is always better than nothing.

"You know what I find amazing?"

Charon says, his face brushing stray strands of my hair.

"Hm, what?"

I ask, staring into the fire.

"I am a mercenary. Nothing more, than a tool used for killing. A puppet, in a sense, someone to be controlled by a higher being. I was never meant to have thought, reason, personality or choice, simply created to blindly follow orders and yet…here I am. A man, if not by any other standards, feeling emotions like a true being. Perhaps my perception and description of said emotions can be off and askew, but they're emotions. They're things I was never meant to feel. Yet somehow…somehow I learned to be a person, and not a puppet. All the while, retaining the information and knowledge of my primal training."

Charon's really still caught up in that. But I guess, if I was in his shoes, I would be too. Being told something for so long, and taught it for forever, you tend to believe it. He's right, though. He was never meant to be a man, by our standards of man, and just simply a silly puppet on thin strings. And against all odds, he beat his own mind.

"We are who we choose to be, Charon. You could have just as easily ignored emotions and stayed loyal to your teachings."

"I could have, but I can't see how I didn't."

"You disobeyed an order, because some young, beautiful, sexually-charged girl came barging into your life all sorts of sexy-like."

He looks at me, smirking.

"It didn't happen that way, Dezbe."

"Yes it did."

His thumb brushes the white scar on my temple.

"Did your brain rattle more than you thought? The way _I_ remember it, is just a tidbit differently."

"Well, you're memory isn't that direct either, Charon."

"Better than a memory that was once lost, now, isn't it?"

I laugh and push his thumb away. Sometimes it scares me. Remembering that my memories weren't there at one point. Because then I wonder, if I really do remember them as they happened. No one's really corrected me yet, but what about the times only I was there to see? Not New Vegas, but before the bullet to the brain? Like the vault. Or my dad. Are the memories I have in my mind the right ones, or slightly misconstrued versions of them?

"Regardless, Dez, what I'm trying to say is I simply find it amazing, that I'm even sitting here right now. I could have stayed who I was, you're right, but I didn't. I developed a personality, when I was trained to not have one."

"Wait, wait. You mean, if I met someone else from that place you were raised in, they'd act exactly like you when I first met you?"

"More or less, yes."

"So…wow…"

"What?"

Pulling my knees to my chin, I rest my head and stare at the flickering flames.

"I just…never realized how massive the brainwashing went. To not have a personality is to…"

"Not be a person."

"Yeah."

Charon shrugs, his black shirt moving with him.

"We weren't meant to be people, Dez."

"Then…wouldn't some other person have done the same thing you did?"

"What?"

"Wouldn't they have changed, if I had met them instead?"

He thinks about this for a while, his jaw set in thought and his foggy eyes glazing over a second layer. Charon gets this look, when he's thinking about something peculiar.

"I suppose it would depend. I'm not sure why exactly you were the driving force in my change. Perhaps because I had never worked with a woman, or even more because I had never met a person so contradicting. I cannot say. I can simply speak for myself. In the end, I am glad what happened, did. As confusing as it was, and as hard as it still is to remember I am not a mindless killer, I am glad."

"You still have the training, though. That switch, that can click on and off. Like if someone presented another false contract."

"I hope I am strong enough now, to not let that happen."

"After five years, you weren't."

I lean back on the mattress, letting my palms support my weight. The room is warm, and Charon feeds the fire more. Glancing outside a hole between boards in the window, I notice the sky is still gray. Nothing to do now, but wait until the sun shines, and the snow turns to mud.

"Let's not speak of that now, Dez."

I turn my head back to Charon. He's staring back into the fire, his feet under him, and his arm is hanging over his raised knee as he almost mimics my posture.

"Alright. What do you want to do with Bigsley then? We can't keep him with us. He's a liability."

"Kill him? It's the only logical way."

"We could bring him to where we're going."

"And risk losing him? Dez, you know if he takes off, he'll tell the Brotherhood everything, and they'll find us faster."

"The Outcasts, you mean."

"Right. We simply can't risk it. And I don't want to babysit."

"You babysit me."

Charon looks at me, smirking.

"That's an enjoyable task. Sometimes."

I punch him lightly in the arm. He doesn't laugh, or crack much of a smile. Instead, he looks at me in a way I can only describe as tender. His eyes grow soft, as I kneel in front of him, the robe and blanket messily spread around my thighs. The shadows of the fire dance off of his body, as it cracks and hisses. Charon's hand clasps around mine, his fingers feeling my palm. I stare at him, letting myself move closer. Before I get too close, I take my hand from his and unzip my top. Sliding my arms out, I toss it on the floor near the door.

As my back is turned, Charon's fingertips trace lightly down my spine. It makes me shudder, goose bumps appearing on my skin. I turn my head and look at him, as his hand clasps around my side. Against my skin, scars aside, his hand is rough and familiar. I don't think I could ever mistake someone else's touch for his, ghoul or not. He pulls me close to him, his face fitting in the nape of my neck.

"I won't leave you, like I did in Megaton. I'm here to stay."

"I know, Charon."

I feel him kiss my skin, and I turn my own head to kiss the side of his.

"You won't be alone out here."

"Charon, what's in your head?"

"I'm afraid."

He admits it so willingly, that it takes me aback for a moment. I pull away from him a bit, just so I can clearly see his face. Charon, scared? Those two words should never be put in the same sentence unless we're talking about Charon's enemies being scared of him. I don't think, he's ever admitted being fearful of something.

"What do you have to be scared of?"

He doesn't answer me right away. Instead, he pulls me back into him, cradling my body against his like I'm a child. A child, he needs to protect against the truth and dangers of the world.

"When I was away, leading off the Outcasts, I was so scared. Scared of not being able to return, scared that they would find you before I made it back. It still sits with me, even though we're here together."

"I understand."

I have a lot to say, but I know I won't be able to. What I want to say, I won't be able to explain or articulate. Not because it can't be said, but because it's so hard to. It's so hard, for me to admit that I share those fears. Those same insecurities, and uncertainties. We just sit in silence, his arms cradling me, because sometimes it's better to just not say anything. I know, that if I truly lost Charon forever, I would eventually have to move on. I would take my time, and pick up the shards of my broken life, and try again to polish them. Him…I can't speak for him. I can't say what he'll do, if and when that time comes. When he has to say goodbye to me forever. Right now, though, neither one of us have to think of that. Because for another setting sun, we're with one another, and taking it day by day is all that counts.


	14. You Can See In Her Eyes

(Bigsley)

I have this horrible feeling. This rock in the bottom of my stomach. I wouldn't have ever thought twice, about the stories and opinions that floated around the Jefferson Memorial. The rumors and gossip, about James' infamous daughter, and her ghoul-lover. I know they'll kill me, or worse, in due time, and as much as that scares me, it doesn't scare me as much as knowing the truth. Knowing or just simply having the seed of doubt planted, that perhaps and maybe, the Brotherhood and the Outcasts were wrong about them. Wrong, in their tales and warnings. That maybe, the ones who are right, are the very ones the Outcasts try so hard to condemn.

I don't know their story. I don't know the gritty details and underlying sense of things. There's no timeline of events for me to follow and keep track of. I wouldn't even have this pit in my stomach, if I hadn't been listening to them. If I hadn't been peering over the edge of the steps, quiet and silent, hoping they'd give answers and clues about their greater plan. So then, then maybe if I had a chance at escape, I could go back and warn the Outcasts of their plans. Maybe even, give them a heads up. But…even now, I don't think that's an option, even if I did escape.

Watching them, hearing them speak by the light of the fire, as boarded up windows in the pre-war house blocked out the light of day…made me seem them. See them, as I have never saw anyone else before. Their wording, the way their bodies move and dance, the way they simply interact, is more human than even Elder Lyons. No one I've encountered, holds the magic of life so perfectly in their hands, as those two do. I've never witness, the bond of loyalty, or anything, so strong between two people.

By the light of the fire, and warmth of the room, the two vigilantes in the Capital Wasteland talk of tender feelings, and intimate memories. They hold one another, part, and then come back as if they're both magnets. I don't know their story, like I said, but when you hear them, you can't help but second guess all you've heard about them. Surely, two people who are so tender in their private moments, cannot be the truly heartless beings they're portrayed to be. I can't see Dez, killing her own father, now that I see what a scared girl she is inside. Charon, his name is, I realize can't be the working mercenary that the Brotherhood and Outcasts tell us, because of how gently he holds her in his hands. His ability to kill isn't what's in doubt, but I know now he has emotions, motives, and feelings. He isn't a tool, what the organizations described him as.

Her body, when she takes off her top, is littered in scars. They twist and light up by the flames of the fire, and I doubt there's a place on her that doesn't have them. Those kinds of scars, aren't usually ones received on the offence. Dez, must have seen the darkest moments of life, and been in dire situations, to receive such heinous things. Even though I heard them, and know my death is imminent, I can't help but feel sorry for my captors. When I saw those scars and lacerations, I felt sorry for her. The way they talk about her at the Memorial…you'd think she was this invincible being. That she was never hurt or injured. Seeing her body that way, made me see that she was hurt, and was injured, and somehow escaped with her life.

I envy them, I suppose in a way. And a part of me, hopes they get away. Hopes, that they get to their destination safe and secure, and that the Outcasts don't find them. Two people, so deeply involved with one another, so hell-bent on simply living, can't be contained and imprisoned. They can't be caught, and killed, discarded as another ordinary obstacle. No, no they're different. They're spice for life and for one another is…it's enticing. From what I could gather, Charon the ghoul fellow, he was in some position. Some, manipulated and seemingly horrific position where he was I want to say a slave. Somehow…somehow Dez helped him out of that. I can't imagine, meaning that much to someone, or vice versa. I can't imagine, what it feels like, to withstand emotions that strong and powerful.

Although I hated them, for so long, and dreaded each time we'd receive word of their continuing life and narrow escape, I don't now. I can't. They don't have to tell me their side, or give me special treatment. They're not going to. Simply watching them, is enough for me. For the first time in my stupid and unimportant existence, I was able to witness the show of two people so in love with one another and life itself, that it altered and changed all I ever knew. It makes me wonder…how many people, have been lucky enough to see this? To see these two beings, hated and wanted by all around, interact in private settings? Not many, I assume. It's beautiful. No one in the Capital Wasteland, is as selfless and as passionate as they are.

Accepting my fate, I suppose, I stand and return up the steps quietly. They come off as mean, cruel people, but seeing those displays of affection, and hearing the undertones of their voice, shows me a whole different world. I can't hate them, no matter how many terrible things they might have done. I can only, at this point, say I'm indifferent and accept it with a grain of salt. You'd have to see them, and spy like I did, to see it, though. To have it change you and move you. To know, that these two people, love one another in a way that I never believed possible. A way, that is rarely if ever, seen in the Capital Wasteland. Even I, forgot the importance of companionship, and seeing it restored before my eyes is more than anything I could ever ask.

"Charon?"

I hear Dezbe softly say, which causes me to stop, and peer over the edge of the banister in the hall. The dark is my cover, I can see them, but I know they can't see me. Her voice, is whimsical and soft. She sounds breathless, like they just spent hours making love by firelight.

"Yeah?"

He replies, just as soft, and calm.

"Will the grass grow here now? It's rained and snowed, so…so can't things come back to life?"

"Perhaps, Dez, in due time they will. The trees will turn brown and green, and the land will be nothing more than fields of green grass. With fresh water, and the climate changes, one can only think it's a matter of time."

"Do you think we'll see it? That it'll be in our lifetime?"

"I don't know, Dez. It could take years, for grass to grow, and even longer for trees. They don't grow in days you know that."

"It's just…exciting I guess. The thought that this place might be able to be green again. Think Gob's okay?"

"Yes, Dez, I think Gob is fine."

It warms me inside. They talk of simple matters. Well, simple matters to them, but dire and important ones to us back at the memorial. My life's work, is nothing but predicting these types of changes, and theirs…I see now…is simply making those changes happen. We would not be here, if they hadn't stormed the Jefferson Memorial beside Liberty Prime and taken back what was rightfully ours. If these two renegades had not agreed to help, then the Enclave surely would have taken over, taken everything.

Thinking back, I remember now, the sacrifice this girl made. If she had not risked her life, to enter the code into the Purifier so long ago, no one would have fresh water. Back then, I can guess the ghoul meant as much to her as he does now. For her to choose the path of her father, over the love of her companion, is a sacrifice not many are willing or able to make. I can't imagine myself, going into a situation where I know it's the end of my own life, and giving up someone who means so much to me. I wouldn't have the courage or the selflessness, to do that.

I could bring her story back. Bring the Outcast and the Brotherhood my knowledge of the two. But…who would believe me? Parties and politicians hell-bent on seeking their destruction, wouldn't hear words of wisdom about them. They have grudges, and after misconstruing the truth to so many people, have promises to uphold. If they were found out, if their stories were found out as false, no one would take them seriously. A revolt, would be put in order, and both the Outcasts and the Brotherhood would be cast out, with the Wastelanders laughing at them the whole way through. I shake my head at all this, at myself. How stupid was I, to believe the lies and deceit and forget what my own eyes told me? I was them, Charon and Dezbe, storm into the Jefferson Memorial after Liberty Prime had fallen. Witnessed before, as the Enclave first appeared, at the distress Dezbe had over losing her father. She never killed him. That was a convincing lie, told to us, to bring comfort and reason to wanting to kill James' only daughter.

And her mother…her mother what would she say? Catherine, a beautiful, stern scientist who worked alongside us at Project Purity. I was there, you know. I was one of the Scribes in charge of recording every last bit of data and history that went down in those long years. I was there, for the courtship of James and Catherine, and saw the anger and jealousy in Dr. Li's eyes, as James chose Catherine. When Dezbe was born…it was a bittersweet moment. Everyone was there, beside Catherine and clogged into the congested underground hall of the Jefferson Memorial. Scribes, Initiates, scientists, doctors, we all watched as the first child in a while, was born. She cried mercilessly, and James laughed and laughed as he wiped her clean. When they viewed her future image on the monitor, James gloated at how much she would look like him.

When the heart monitor alarms went off, and everyone fell into a frenzy, James stood fast. He worked hard as he could, to revive Catherine, as the small Dezbe was taken, silently, from the room. I saw her, as one of the doctors walked by. Her eyes were large, dark and mysterious. They looked around at blurry things in wonder, her hands balled into small, shriveled fists beneath her chin. We were so young then, so young and hopeful and impressionable. Catherine's death marked the end of something vital. The end of hope, in a way. We had lost her so quickly, so suddenly, at a moment when all should have been cheerful and merry. Us Scribes personally looked forward, to having a little girl running around. It would give us a fresh breath of air, a needed and welcome distraction from work. It would renew our faith and work ethic into the project, to one day have pure water, for children like her to sip on and splash in.

A day or so after Catherine's death, and Dezbe's birth, James decided to leave. He abandoned all of Project Purity, claiming that he had bigger priorities to attend to. A single father, alone with a child in the Capital Wasteland, chased the dream of entering Vault 101 in hopes of providing a better life for his newborn daughter. He left, traveling into the Wasteland, and for nineteen years, it was the last we had ever heard or seen of him and his child. We had thought them dead. We all, feared the worse.

I knew it was her, though. From the second I first saw her, nineteen and beautiful, I couldn't deny she was James' daughter. She has his face, his eyes and ambition. His drive for a better world, and his stubborn tendencies. It creates a horrible feeling inside, that for so long I supported the Outcast and Brotherhood's hunt for her. That I spoke words of venom about her name, and her actions with her ghoul counterpart. I can't do anything about the past now, simply continue on with them until they see fit to end my life. I won't fight them then. After all the things I've said against them, it would be merciful of them to kill me. I don't deserve to be a waste of their time.

"Think they'll ever stop hunting us?"

Her voice echoes up to my ears, as I begin to turn my back and enter a vacant, old bedroom.

"I don't know, Dez. We can hope, but, I highly doubt it."

She isn't the drug-crazed maniac that everyone portrayed her to be. She isn't the terrorist, hell-bent on destroying all the Brotherhood had worked so hard for. She's nothing like they say she is. She's a scared, lost little girl, and I regret everything I did to not help her. I regret, not sharing her courage and bravery, to stand up against those who opposed me, and I regret not stopping their vicious lies and rumors. If I ever make it out alive, I promise, I'll do all I can, to help fix this mess. To help, make it right. Even if I lose my life, at least then, it would have been for something.


	15. Please Don't Let Me Go

Charon wakes me up the next morning, and I groan at the thought of opening my eyes. It's so warm and comfortable here, under these blankets and I don't want to move. We stayed up really late last night, just talking about stuff. Talking about nothing, and talking about everything. It was really nice, you know, to just talk like that. It felt like forever, since we've done anything like that anyways.

"Come on, Dez, we have to move."

Charon says, shaking my shoulder. I groan, but comply. Sitting up, I yawn, stretch, and wipe the crusty sleep from my eyes. Charon's already dressed, boots laced and straps buckled. He holds his gun in his hands, impatiently watching me. Behind him stands Bigsley. I scowl at him and cough like there's a bad taste in my throat. I hate Bigsley. Him, and all the other stupid Brotherhood follows. Can't blame them for being arrogant and ignorant, but I can blame them for not wanting to learn and know the truth.

"Where's my shirt?"

I grumble, running my fingers through my thick hair. Charon bends down and tosses it to me. I stand up, and take my shirt.

"You can put your robe on, Bigsley. It's warm out now."

I say as I turn my back to him to put my top on. I can feel his eyes watching me. Feel them, as they trace up and down my back, picking and judging each and every one of my scars. I'm sure if we don't kill him, he'll run back to the Brotherhood and tell them about all these. Tell them I must have caused some international uproar and disbanded some form of other Brotherhood followers and was horribly tortured and nearly escaped with my life. Actually, that sounds like something I would do, and something pretty cool to brag about. I should make up my own horrible stories. Least then I would add some awesome fight scenes and romantic instances.

Zipping up my top, I move my arms and grab my gun that's on the floor. I crack it open, making sure it's loaded. It is, and I nod.

"Any word on what's out there?"

I ask Charon as I turn to face him. He hands me a lit cigarette, and I take it. The smoke this early in the morning is a bittersweet feeling, as it travels down my throat, and into my lungs. I have to suppress a cough, but the lightheaded high is a good leveler.

"It looks clear. We can make it the rest of the way, if all goes well, in less than a half day."

"And the snow?"

"Gone. Just drying mud. Slippery in some places."

I nod and put my gun on my hip. Charon slides his over his shoulder, and onto his back. He smokes a cigarette too, and we both turn to look at Bigsley. He's fitting on his robe, and has his back to us. I look at Charon, and he looks at me, we decide not to kill him just yet, and I take my hand off of my gun. I don't know why we silently agreed on this, but I figure there's a reason. We just haven't found it yet.

"Let's go, we're wasting day."

"Charon, stop getting your panties in a bunch. You woke me up this early, we're not wasting shit."

Charon mutters something and folds his arms in front of him. It's back to being badass now, in front of the stupid Scribe we've found ourselves with. Pushing past Charon, I open the door to the pre-war house. The sun is bright, and warm, and harsh against my eyes. Putting my hand up, I shield the light for a bit so I can get use to it. When I do, I want to relish in the feel of the warm sun. My dry socks under my boots feel comfortable, and there's slight mud scattered across the changed landscape of the Capital Wasteland.

It's not what it used to look like, with it's high mountain-like hills and rocky dirt. I mean, it's the same, but it's different. Charon was right. Things shifted and changed. Cliffs fell in on one another, and created more, smaller rocky hills. The land looks smooth, as if someone patted over it with one of those pre-war iron things for clothes. I'm not sure what to make of it, as I pull up my Pip-Boy map.

"We're not far."

I say, as Charon and Bigsley come out of the house. Bigsley has the same reaction as me, shielding his eyes from the sun. Glancing up at Charon, I notice he's fixated on something in the distance. My words fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, is something up?"

Grabbing his gun, Charon cocks it. Slowly, he begins to walk around the house. I follow his lead, and take my own gun out. Bigsley does the smart thing and follows the two of us.

"Outcasts."

One word, sends a trickle of fear down my spine. Looking behind me as I follow Charon, I notice he's right. Four or five Outcasts make their way across the Capital Wasteland, less than miles from us. My heart beats with adrenaline, as my fingers tighten around the butt of my gun.

"Think they see us?"

"We'll find out soon enough, if we don't move."

I nod and look back at Bigsley, a bit angry at him. A part of me, thinks they're here for him, the only way they'd ever come this far out is if they found evidence of our travels. I can't think of any other way, they would have pinpointed our exact location so quickly. Charon keeps looking back, as we quicken our pace, hoping to get to lower ground before our silhouettes are seen on the horizon.

"We should fight them."

I tell Charon as I catch up to him. He looks down at me, then back to the Outcasts closing in.

"If there's just five, we can take them. Running might give them time to regroup. Plus, we have Bigsley. We can use him as a human shield."

I continue on, Charon stopping his walk.

"They won't take mercy on Bigsley, Dez. They're after us, and they won't stop. Running may be the only thing to keep us alive. They aren't playing anymore. They're out for our heads."

"Then lets give it to them."

I smirk at Charon, the old spark of an anticipating fight flowing in my eyes. Charon seems to have mixed feelings, but ultimately agrees. A snide smirk crosses his face, as he nods in agreement.

"Person with the most kills wins?"

"Oh Charon, a man after my own heart."

We don't run at them. We hide behind a large rock gathering a wait. Running would mean losing distance, and in this situation we can't afford that. Why cover ground that you've already covered? Glancing over at Bigsley who crouches in fear beside Charon, I frown. If he's at the end of this Outcast arrival, I'll waste no time in killing him myself. Although I'm looking forward to a fresh fight, there's always a chance that someone could get hurt or worse. It's that thought, that makes everything around me turn uneasy.

"They're within rage, Dez."

Charon says as he peers over the rock. Crouching back down beside me, he looks at me. I feel a bit of resistance in my bones at this, but it was my idea, and there's a bet I have to win.

"Then let's do this."

Before Charon can agree or not, I jump out from behind the rocks. Instantly, the sight of the Outcasts catches my eye. Three of them stand a yard or more away, and my sudden appearance catches them off guard.

"There she is!"

One of them howls, and all of them reach for their weapons. Stupid beings. They didn't have their weapons drawn on a manhunt? I guess they weren't really expecting to find me. Which shows good news, because I figure if that's the case then they're not expecting to ever find me. Or something of the sorts. Without hesitation, I fire my gun once at them. The bullets hit where I aimed, piercing and denting one of the Outcast's armor. I hear their weapons firing up, and notice there's not much cover. A large rock a few feet away suffices, and I slide behind it, scraping up my shins.

Loud blasts of Charon's shotgun echo through the Capital Wasteland. When I hear them, I know it's somewhat safe for me to pop my head out again. Taking fast aim, I cripple one of their legs, and they fall to the ground.

"Thank you."

I say, rushing up and taking their automatic gun from the ground where it had fallen. It won't help me much in the long run, but for right now I need a weapon that isn't a three-shot fail. Although, I must say, it is a lot more powerful now than it was before. So I decide not to use the Assault Rife right away. Instead I finish off the fallen Outcast with the last two shots from my sawed-off, and replace it to my hip. Charon quickly finishes off the other Outcast, leaving one left for us to share.

Acting fast, I grab a frag grenade that was on the hip of the Outcast I killed. Pulling the pin with my teeth, I throw it, a maniacal smile creeping across my face.

"Duck and cover!"

I yell, moving a few feet away. Charon does the same, and I laugh as I see Bigsley running like a Molerat with its head cut off away from where the grenade landed. Seems he was having some private time with the other Outcast, and didn't notice the grenade land. Stupid. Serves him right though, for proving my instincts about him right. A blast behind Bigsley's scared self blows a decent hole in the ground, and I laugh as the Outcast it landed near flies a good couple yards from it. Blood pooling around his dead body, bright enough for us to see even from this far away, is a good indication that he's dead as a doornail.

"So, I win?"

I say, slinging the Assault Rifle around my shoulder and onto my back. Charon shakes his head, frowning.

"No, grenades don't count."

"What! What! Of course they do! You're just mad because I beat you at your own game!"

Charon shakes his head, still holding his shotgun in his hands. Bigsley stands behind him, whiter than a glass of milk straight from the Brahmin's tit. Taking my sawed-off from my hip, I crack it open and start piling shells into it.

"You tossed a grenade, so what? Wasn't like you took aim from miles away and got him between the eyes."

"Stop being a sore loser, Charon."

Charon shrugs and looks around more. He stares down near the pre-war house we slept in, and narrows his eyes.

"I thought there was one more…"

Snapping my sawed-off shut, I shrug and yawn. The fight wasn't as gruesome or as epic as I hoped it would be, but what can you expect? The Outcasts and Brotherhood never really gave much of a good fight. In numbers, they're pretty tough to beat, but in small groups they're like picking off wounded Deathclaws. Stay away, but from a good distance you're bound to win. Speaking of which, I haven't seen any Deathclaws around for a while. I wonder if they've gone extinct?

"We should keep moving."

Charon says, motioning his head North. I nod, but then…then something catches my attention from the corner of my eye. Turning fast, it happens in slow motion. My eyes grow wide with fear, my hand reaches out to try and push Charon down, everything has a blur to it. An Outcast stands, coming out from a large boulder, and takes a fast aim at Charon's head. My panicked look gives Charon a bit of warning, but I still see it all. I still see everything.

I take aim with my own gun, firing faster than I feel I can squeeze the trigger. He's in rage of me, and although I miss one shot, the rest knock the Outcast dead, his neck being the weak point I had targeted. But it didn't stop him from firing another shot. His speed, matched mine perfectly. I can see the bullet in the air. I watch it, knowing there's nothing I can do. My entire body freezes up, stiffening, and I feel colder than I did the day of the snow.

Charon's shoulder plate acts against him, for the first time since I've met him. It's protected him in more severe battles than this, with the ability to make bullets bounce away when hit. This time, it does the opposite. The bullet hits the plate, at the exact angle the Outcast wanted it to. It bounces upwards, diagonal, I drop my gun. I watch Charon's hand fly up to his neck, as blood dances in the air around him. His body moves with the force of the bullet, the pain registering on his face, the situation hitting me hard in the chest. I run at him.

"Charon!"

I yell, the world finally working in real-time. My feet pick up, faster than I expected them to, as Charon falls to his knees, gripping his neck with both hands.

"Shit! Shit!"

Blood seeps out from between his fingers, his body shakes, convulsing, but he stays on his knees. I know that's a good sign, know that he's conscious and able to keep balance. My eyes frantically scan the area, looking for anything that might possibly prove to be irradiated. A small pool of water, maybe not even a foot deep or three feet wide, catches between two green and yellow barrels. I know what it is.

"There's radiation, come on. Come on, gimmie your arm."

I impatiently urge Charon to hand me his arm. He does, losing more and more blood by the second. The bullet hit his jugular, I know, I know because it's obvious. I'm drenched in his blood in a matter of seconds, as he leans some of his weight on me. Gurgling, chocking, sputtering sounds replace his speech, and I force the feelings of panic away. I have to stay calm, stay rational, stay sane.

"Almost there, come on."

It's not more than four yards, not more than a hop, skip, jump away. But to us right now, it's miles. It's miles and miles away, as Charon's body slowly gets heavier and heavier against my own. His warm blood soaks my shirt, and trickles down his back. His hand that had been so adamantly pressing against it is now falling limp on my shoulder, as I struggle to keep him up. His feet, that began as long, heavy strides, turn slow, dull and limp.

"Come on…"

I mutter, keeping myself rational, calm, and in control. I tell myself we'll make it, tell myself that all this blood isn't just his. That somehow I was hit too, and we're just both in dire need of radiation. My heart feels heavy, under our combined weight. My feet, feel thick and sluggish, as I force them along in the dirt. Coughing and sputtering tells me Charon's trying to communicate.

"No, shut up, just keep _moving_."

I hiss, not wanting to look at him. I don't want to look him in the eyes, and see what I won't even admit. The radiation is so close, I can smell it almost. I can, I swear. Blood falls down my side, like small rivers making new paths. Charon's fingers dig into my shoulder, the fabric of my shirt being pulled with them. The radiation is in front of me, so close, so close.

"Right here, right here come on."

I still won't look at him. I refuse. I don't want to look in his eyes, and see the worse. I look at his hand, as it slides from around my shoulders. My feet hang on the edge of the puddle, wanting to give Charon all of the meager radiation. His feet fall in it first, and my heart lightens. As his weight takes over him, my eyes grow wide. He falls, like a large tree, over and splashes down. I plunge my feet in, to turn him on his back, and feel nothing.

Nothing, not one bit. No warm tingling sensations, no feelings of euphoria seeping in from the feet up. No feelings of cells pulsing and regenerating. There's nothing in my body, as the wind blows my hair around my face, and picks up small bits of dust from my dry arms. Checking my Pip-Boy, the radiation level is a bit less, than one RAD.

"No, no, no."

I drop my palms in the water, kneeling in it, as if more of me will make it radiate. I stare down, at the cloudy image of my knees in the murky water. Panic shifts through me, calm, easy, as if it's mocking me. A wet hand, picks my chin up, as my eyes blur with tears that won't fall. I won't look at him. I look at the water, as it turns an unnatural red. A sigh and a cough, forces me to look into reality and look into the unknown.

"Charon…"

I choke out, seeing his neck. The bullet didn't go through, but shredded his neck, his vulnerable and half-exposed veins. He can't talk, but he doesn't try. His eyes are cloudier than usual, and his bloody hand slides down the side of my face.

"No…no it's okay. It's radiation, see? Feel it?"

I splash the water, trying to force a smile. In the distance, I hear an unnatural sound, but I ignore it. I don't care, as I stare into his blue, milky eyes. I grab his hand from my chest, and cling to it.

"Don't you dare. I _order_ you to stay alive. I _order_ you, you hear me? You hear?"

He coughs viciously in response, the blood flowing freely from his neck. I can finally see the truth. The truth, as he lies in front of me. As the water seeps into my pants, drenching me. A short-lived victory for us, since the time on the Tenpenny balcony, to now. I open my mouth, but no words come out. None, as the pulse of life slowly leaves the only thing, being, I've ever loved, in front of my eyes.

"Don't let me go, Charon. I…I need you, okay? I need you, I desperately need you…please…I can't do it alone…"

My hands grip his one, pleading with him, begging, hoping with every ounce and atom in my body. When his fingers fall limp in mine, when the water stills around him, and the breath of life isn't present, is when I know that the worst has finally happened. When my insides tell me to accept it, that it's happened, is when I know I can't run anymore.

"Oh…Charon…"

When I would see him smile, I'd cry inside. I'd smile back, a sad, hopeful smile. That in this upside-down world, we found deep inside one another, a calming sense of peace. From the first night, where he held me, bruising my wrist as my entire weight dangled from a high-off cliff, he's never let me fall. At night, when the fire dyed down, and the night fell upon us, he'd whisper 'It's okay'. I never believed love was real. I never believed, in childish things, as faith, trust, and pixie dust. Until I met him. Until the fights came, where I'd scream and give empty orders and threats, and he'd simply fold his arms and look away.

I'd look him in the eyes, and beg him to believe me. Believe, when I told him I loved him. When we shared a first kiss, a first moment of lust and his first feeling of emotion…was the best time in my life. It was everything to me. Everything. It made me, created me, helped shift me and mold me into the being I am today. Today, when all of it, slipped away before my eyes. Faster, than I've ever lost anything else before.

"Don't leave me…"

I whisper, my head hanging and shaking. His hand falls from mine, limp, lifeless.

"Nothing…nothing can go wrong now."

Peering out behind me, I see a Vertibird coming my way. It's still just a black dot in the sky, but it's fast. A part of me, wants to sit here. Wants to sit, and let them shoot me. Let them kill me, beside the person they took from me. But I can't. I decide, as I stand, empty and numb, that I can't let them take me. I can't be that person. I can't let them kill me, letting Charon's death be in vain, letting it all be for nothing. I have to fight. I'm alive, there's a chance. A chance for change. For…for something.

"Dezbe?"

Bigsley's voice rings out from behind me. Still sitting in the puddle, my neck creaks to his direction. My gun in his outstretched hand, anger rushes inside my veins. He looks in my eyes, as I take the gun, and his eyes grow wide, too.

"Is he…is he okay?"

Silently, I look back at Charon's body. No, no he's not, Bigsley.

"No."

He's not, and it's all your fault. Before I can stop myself, with the noise of the Vertibird getting closer, I pounce on him. Blinded by rage, anger, anguish and sadness, I let my movements talk for me. I raise my hand, angrier than when Charon would do the same thing, and bring it down over, and over again, on Bigsley's face. My knuckles crack and pop, my wrist throbs and aches, and when I feel him bleed, I stop, and open my eyes.

He looks at me, swollen, purple, bloody. He doesn't shed a tear.

"This is all _your_ fault!"

I scream, shoving him down and standing on my own. He falls to the ground, raising his arms in defense. I'm so angry. So, so angry.

"No! No I did nothing!"

"You led them here! You _killed _him!"

I scream. I scream louder than a dying Brahmin, louder than a pissed off Yao Guai. My cries are carried through the Capital Wasteland, echoing off and traveling further than Megaton. People stop in random places, they look around in wonder, at where these painful cries are coming from. They search, for the source, wondering what on earth could cause and feel so much pain. So much loss, and so much sadness. I don't close my mouth, until the sound stops. Until the pain that bubbles and the hurt that causes it stifles for just a moment. Then, and only then, do I open my eyes, and feel the comfort of numb wash over me.

"Dezbe…"

Bigsley says, his shadow overcastting my kneeled body. I look up at him, the whooshing sound of the blades of the Vertibird growing louder and louder.

"Listen to me, listen. Run, Dezbe. They'll kill you."

I don't ask questions. I don't inquire as to why he's telling me to get away, when him and everyone else has simply been all about hunting me down and killing me. I just stare at him, blank, expressionless.

"Let them. I have nothing."

I say, looking at my empty hands, feeling my gun on my hip. Let them kill me, let them take me here and now. Maybe then I'll see Charon again. Knowing for good, that I'll never hear his voice, never feel the warm embrace of his touch, or feel his lips against mine, is a greater pain than any death.

"Dezbe listen! Run, go, I'll distract them _run_."

"You caused this."

"Then let me pay for it!"

It's not a confession, it's a stance. Bigsley takes a stance against me and my wishes, and against those he works for. I look up at him, his broken and panicked face, his breathless chest moving up and down like he's just run miles. Past him, the Vertibird comes into view.

"Don't let him die for nothing, Dezbe. He wouldn't want you to die here, too."

He's right. He is, you know. But what more, do I have to live for, if all I've been secretly living for, is gone? It's a question I'll have to ask myself later. A moment I'll have to take when things are quiet. My heart, and the need to survive, pumps in my veins. There is a time to grieve, and a time to move on. A time where all of this hurt and pain can come out, when the tears can flow and the room and world is quiet. But not now. No, no not now.

Standing up, I look once more at Charon. Without another word to Bigsley, I walk towards him. Charon. Kneeling beside, I close his eyelids. Kissing his forehead, I stroke his cheek, and take the combat knife from his side. His shotgun and his dogtags I leave. I hope whoever finds him, I hope whoever sees him, is stricken with the worst fear imaginable. Is stopped dead in their tracks. Dezbe, the Vigilante of the Capital Wasteland, has lost all she's ever hoped for. All she's ever held dear. Hell hath no fury, like that of a woman scorned. The world will know that, too. They will, and they won't ever see the end of it.

Running faster than I have before, I make my way towards the train station that will take me to The Pitt. I run, as if I'm running from my past, and my present. The pain I felt moments before is numb. Numb, and I feel nothing. No sadness, no anguish, no fear of the unknown. The Vertibird lands where Bigsley stood, and I look behind me as I run faster and faster. Blurred images of Outcasts and Brotherhood Initiates and soldiers climb out. They haven't seen me, they won't see me. I'll be gone from here soon enough. Not a trace or mark left, of the most wanted person in the wastes. There will be time for me, to grieve for Charon later. Time for me to walk into the emotions and let myself be trapped and stolen. Not right now, though. Right now, is for survival. Survival, and moving faster than I ever have before.

When I get to the train station, I waste no time in getting in, and climbing on the contraption that'll take me to The Pitt. My thoughts have to race to catch up to my body, as I crank the handle, making it move. Before I know it, I'm sitting on the steel edge of the moving platform, my feet dangling below. The last time…the last time I was on this, Charon bid me farewell. It was after the Talons, and after we had bumped into Wernher. The light from the entrance grows smaller and smaller, as I drift into the dark tunnel. Today, there is no Charon. He doesn't stand on the edge, hollering about Underworld. He doesn't bid me a farewell filled with bittersweet feelings and a taste of amorous, hidden love. Today, there is only me, and the creaking sounds of the platform whisking me away from a home, that I've only just returned to. I feel nothing. I am nothing. I am simply a shell, now, of my former self. When the light vanishes, darkness is my companion, and I sit, wondering when enough is enough.


	16. Hopeless and Lonely

The Pitt isn't as polluted as I remember it to be. The smog still hangs thick in the air, and the smell is still burning, but it's not as bad. I notice this, among other things, as I stroll across the bridge. My first time here, I was dodging landmines and ducking behind broken cars to save my life, let alone a limb. Now, it's clear as day. The bridge, I mean. The sky is brighter than it was five years ago, a bit more reddish orange, like fire, than black and orange. I suppose it's gonna take longer than five years though, to clean it all up. And get rid of the smell. The smell of burning flesh, which I guess is what they do when people die. Burn them. It's better than leaving them in the Capital Wasteland unburied.

Ouch. Shaking my head, I block that out. It's not a good time for that, not now, anyways. I have to focus, and make sure no one followed me. As much as I know, no one did. Which is good, I suppose. Sniffing my nose, I light a cigarette. I got use to a lot of things out here, in the would outside the vault. But, the smell of burning flesh, is something you never really quite get over. No matter how immune to death and decay you are. Charon will…would…like this place. I think so. It's him. In some strange, and twisted way, he'd have fun here. Or at least…he would have.

Past tense hurts. It hurts, when it's about someone you love. When you have to say 'would have' or 'was' rather than 'will' or 'is'. It's like a subtle reminder, that they're not there, instead of just outwardly admitting it. I don't want to admit it, not yet, anyways. Like I said, there's time for that. Right now I have to focus on myself, as selfish as that is. Dying now would be a good kick in the teeth to Charon. I can't disappoint him. I have to prove him, and everyone else wrong somehow. I just wish that this numbing feeling would go away. The more numb you are, the worse it is when reality hits you. And it'll hit me. I know it. I just don't know when.

In the main area of the city, I notice people are different. Those who I vaguely remember having serious Trog are now Trow-free. Their skin is clear, and as I watch them pass me by, I know they're staring. Shit, I can see it. Some of them, I can tell, recognize me. They don't know how, or from where because they know I'm not from The Pitt, but they do. I can tell, too, when they realize it. When it hits them and their faces wash over with realization, surprise, and shock. Instantly they whisper to their friends, point, and open their mouths. I'm not an object to be gawked at. I'm Dezbe. I'm just Dezbe.

"Excuse me?"

I say, tapping a woman n the shoulder. Her back is to me, and she turns around. She's all smiles and sunshine, and it's really ironic. Six years ago, was it six or five? Six, yeah, these people were the most miserable sons of bitches in the world. With every right, too, but still. Now it seems someone's shown them the light of the way and all they want to do now is laugh and skip merrily into the sunset. Does the sun even shine in The Pitt?

"Yes?"

Her voice is soft and old. Mothering, but I'm guessing she's in her forties. Maybe late thirties. I was never good at guessing games.

"I'm looking for Wernher. Have you seen him?"

"He lives up at Haven with Marie and Midea."

Midea, that's a name I haven't heard in a while. The scar on my side is a reminder of her. The long, deep, twisting and winding one that sets me apart from those living and those not. I would have died, if she wasn't there to help me. A stranger, a stranger from some place called the Capital Wasteland was all I was, and she helped me even though the rest could have been done without. I guess maybe not, but I had did my part. Mostly. Somewhat. She helped me still, though, and it's because of her I made it back to…

"You're not from here, are you?"

Her voice interrupts my thoughts. Blinking, I look at her.

"What? Oh, uh, no…no I'm not."

"You look very familiar…have we met before."

"My name is Dezbe. Dez. I uh, came here a while ago."

Her eyes grow wide, they're green.

"Oh! Oh, you're…you're _her_!"

She grabs my hands and squeezes, her eyes fill with tears. I expected her to be angry, for some reason. I guess I'm just use to the people in the Capital Wasteland, that I've forgotten what 'gratitude' is. I give her a half-smile. I can't make a full one.

"I, uh, am?"

"Oh, you have no idea how much your efforts meant to us…without you who knows what would have happened? Thank you, thank you so very, very much."

"Not a problem?"

"Oh, right you have to go see Wernher. Is everything okay? Do you need help? Can I help?"

"No, no it's alright. I just need to speak with him is all. Thanks though."

She lets my hands go, still smiling from ear to ear. I don't know how to act, so I walk away, waving with a nervous look on my face. I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just busy with a full plate and not use to people actually liking what I've done for them. It's a new feeling, and I wish I could enjoy it. Everything now, though, good or bad, just feels so empty. Even when I walk through the people, making my way toward Haven, and they recognize me and say good things, I can't relish in it. I want to. I want to enjoy it and have their praises fall on ears that listen, but I can't. All I can do is stick to my initial plan, and go talk to Wernher in hopes that he'll put me up for a few days. Right now, that just seems like the brightest thing in my life.

I stand in front of Haven, a bit mesmerized at it's changes. The slave-like statue that once stood in front is gone, and a brightly-lit building stands clear as day in front of me. There's no overheating pits of fire-like substances, no charred and burning building smell, there's just Haven, and Pitt residents and citizens go in and out freely. Wernher is on the top floor, or so I've gathered from random people I've asked. The only thing to do now, is make it up there. I'm just stalling, because I know once I get myself set up with a room and figure this place out, there won't be anything bright to look forward to after that. Once I settle here, what's preventing me from staying? The Brotherhood won't find me, and won't even think to look here. Aside from Gob, I don't have any other reason to return to the Capital Wasteland. It's my home, but…who wants a home without a heart?

Walking up to the building, the doors are light. They pull open without any resistance, and I walk in without anyone giving me a second glance. It's good, sometimes, to be anonymous. Makes finding my way around, and climbing all the steps, a lot easier. I don't have to stop every few minutes and talk with someone, or introduce myself, or explain why I've returned. Some people might get worried, and rumors spread fast. I know if I simply say to too many people that I just want to talk to Wernher, they'll suspect something. It's the truth, though, people just have a hard time accepting that.

Wandering around the top floor, I hear the laughter of a young girl. In a way, it reminds me of Zack, and a warm feeling brews. But I can't enjoy that warm, brewing feeling, and it vanishes faster than it came. Following the laugh, I walk down the corridor. There's light coming from an open door, and shadows reflect on the opposing wall. A deep, man's voice echoes soon after the laughter stops. I stop walking to listen for a minute. It reminds me of my dad's, and the way he would say things. The voice tells the little girl she's beautiful, and that he loves her. I wish…I wish I had a memory of my father, telling me that same thing.

Picking up my feet, I walk to the open door. Peering inside, Wernher is holding a small girl in his arms. Marie, I assume. She was just a small, twitching bundle the last time I saw her, and I find it funny how much she mirrors Zack. At least, the actions do. Clearing my throat, I let Wernher know I'm present. He looks over, his blown-back, long hair, and his black eye-patch the same as it ever was before. Unlike everyone else, it doesn't take Wernher a minute to recognize me. It's instant.

"Dez."

He sates, putting Marie down. I smirk, as he walks over and we hug. An embrace of old friends, comrades, and memories. I fall into his scent, closing my eyes for a brief moment. He smells like sulfur, and it reminds me of someone familiar.

"What brings you back here, old friend?"

Wernher says as he pulls away from me. His hands rest on my shoulders, we stand at the same height. Marie watches behind him, and my gaze goes back and forth.

"I need your help. I'm in trouble."

He doesn't ask right away. Instead he turns to Marie.

"You stay here honey, alright? Daddy has some things he has to talk to his old friend with."

"Okay."

"I'll be back later to tuck you in."

Marie nods, and Wernher motions for me to follow him. I wave at Marie, as I turn my back. I guess he's taken on the role as father, since I killed hers and her mother. I don't feel bad for it, I don't feel bad for much of anything anymore I guess. It's just how things are, and how they play out is out of my control. I just do my job, and move on. I can't carry everyone's burden at once. I simply can't.

Following Wernher down the hall, he leads me to another room. I step in and he shuts the door behind us. There's a window, and a table, it's a kitchen. Seeing a chair, I thankfully sit down, relieved to give my feet a break.

"What kind of trouble are you in?"

Wernher asks, sitting across from me. I sigh, not holding back.

"The Brotherhood are after me. It's a long story, but in the end I was framed and I'm not guilty of much. I need a place to hide, till things cool off. I don't know how long it'll take, but this was the only place I knew they wouldn't look for me."

Wernher puts his arms on the table, and looks at my tired face. At this point, he could say no, and it wouldn't bother me much. You get tired of things, after a while. You just get tired.

"I see. Do you know what'll happen if they catch you?"

I smirk, as if the answer is obvious.

"They'll kill me. They've tried before. I barely escaped with my life. They've already…they've already killed those I care about. I can't let them get to me. If I do, then their deaths will be in vain. If you can't put me up then tell me now and I'll be on my way."

"Hey, calm down. Look, I was just asking. You can stay here as long as you like, there's a spare room on this floor. Midea and I own this floor, with Marie. We have an extra room. Calm down, you're actin' like a Trog with no head."

I nod, running my fingers through my hair.

"Thank you. It's appreciated, really."

"Alright, now that business is put aside, how've you been?"

Small talk. Don't you love it? Wernher might be happy to see me, and I know it's good to see him again, but I can't do small talk. I just want to go to my new room. I want to pretend this is a bad dream, and when I wake up, it'll all be over. But I can't, and for his sake, I have to play it cool. There's a time, and there's a place. Not now, Dezbe, not now.

"Same old, same old. Been here, been there, done that and everything more. It's way too complicated to explain in one night."

"Tired, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah you look it. Look like you saw death himself."

No, no I didn't see Death. I saw his ferryman.

"Tell me about it. So how's life in The Pitt now? Seems a lot happier. At least, the people seem it."

Changing the subject from me to him is the only defense I have. Luckily, it works.

"It's great. The people here are happy, liberated, free. There's no ruler here anymore, just us, and it's wonderful."

"So how's this system work? You use caps for currency?"

"Caps? No, no that's funny. Actually, there is none."

"No currency?"

"It sounds crazy I know. But look, the people here remember. They remember how it was and how much it sucked. They work now, for themselves and one another. If someone needs new clothes, someone will make it. The memories is what keeps the harmony. Everyone shares, and no one steps out of line. It's only working though, because it's so soon after. It's still fresh in everyone's mind, Ashur's rule and whatnot. When it fades…is when I'll worry."

"If it's as peaceful as you say, then there's bound to be an uproar soon."

"Soon, but not soon enough where I have to worry and plan for it. Give it a generation or two. There's always one rebellious band of kids, let them be born first. Let the people play and be free and merry for a while, before the fighting starts again."

"That's a good way of looking at it. There's so many people in one small area, it's a lot different from the Capital Wasteland."

"Yeah, it sure is. When I first got there, I was floored by the vastness of it all. Say, where's that fellow you were with when I met you? He decide not to come? He's welcome now, if you want to go snatch him up. Seemed like you two were close."

I bite my lip. There aren't tears to fight back, or quivering emotions to cease. There's just the painful memory of that beautiful goodbye, when Wernher whisked me away to The Pitt.

"He's…well…"

"It's alright. Hungry?"

It's been a while, since I last ate, but no I'm not hungry. So I shake my head, letting my hair fall around me. I catch a glimpse of the combat knife at my thigh. I grip my hands together. There's no good way, to avoid it anymore.

"Can you show me my room? I'm tired."

I say fast, almost slurring. Wernher nods, eyeing me up and down like I'm this strange being. Standing, I follow him down the hall. He doesn't ask any questions, or say any statements. He just leads me, silently, through the quiet halls of Haven. It's eerie, how creepy it is, how just outside this building a torrent of noise nearly deafens you from the tools and machinery the people use. I guess a few feet of concrete does make a good sound-proofer. Looking at my Pip-Boy, I notice it's not even evening yet. But I just feel tired. Not where I can sleep, but tired of everything in general. It's time for me to rest my mind.

"Here."

Wernher says, opening a door. I peer inside what I assume is my room. There's a bed, a real bed, and a sink with a cooler. I can keep my own food. Simple things like that, brighten my mood just a tidbit.

"Thank you."

"The sink works, the water is irradiated but clean. Pop a Rad-Away before using it and you should be fine. Oh, and in here is a change of clothes. You're covered in blood, help yourself to them."

He motions to a closet, but I'm too struck to really move. Blood. I forgot.

"Right well, if you need to talk about anything, I'm just down the hall."

"Yeah…yeah thanks."

Wernher gives an awkward wave, and leaves me standing inside. He closes the door behind him, and I sigh. On the wall, near the foot of the bed, there's a mirror. I see myself for the first time, in a while. Stepping close, I examine my features. My eyes have dark circles under them. Not the kind you get from lack of sleep, but the kind you get when you see something horrific, something to utterly change you and your mind. I've seen so much, I suppose those have been there a while. My cheeks, usually round and soft with smile-lines even though I'm almost always frowning, have blood on them. Blood. Not mine, no, no not mine. Fingers are defined, a full palm, and it's smudged where his hand slid down. I place my hand over it. His, is still bigger.

My fingertips, reach just below where his third knuckle would be, near the tip of his finger. I close my eyes with my hand still there, remembering how perfectly our hands matched. How perfectly, our fingers fit between one another's. I can almost feel his hand, against my own, against my face. I can almost feel the lines and coarse leather, fingerless gloves on my palm. Feel his fingers rubbing against mine, his torn and ghoulified skin grazing my own calloused hand.

Opening my eyes, I stare at the blood. I stare at it, as it falls down my neck, brown and dried. It stains my clothes, a permanent, hateful reminder. I try to smell him around me, but I smell nothing. Nothing, but the stench of The Pitt, and death. This sense of loneliness, of misplacement, has never been so fierce. There's no stars here, ever, to comfort me and be consistent. It's the first time, I've been without stars, and been without anyone. In New Vegas, there were stars, and I knew he was back in the Capital Wasteland, patiently waiting. Now…now I know he isn't waiting anywhere. He's where I left him, dead, in the Capital Wasteland, becoming nothing more than a corpse in a graveyard. I don't want to think of that, right now, or ever.

Glancing down, I retrieve the combat knife from my waist. I unsheathe it, and hold it in front of my face. The blade shimmers in the dull light, sharp, deadly. I'd whisper something, but it takes two, to do that. Running my fingertips over the blade, I feel a prick as I draw blood. It doesn't faze me. I wish…I wish I had a photograph of us. Something cute, something stupid and lovey dovey. I wish, on lonely nights, I had something of us to look at, and stare at in longing. But I don't. I simply don't.

Grabbing a chunk of my hair, I close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Pulling the knife through, I chop off huge handfuls of hair. I let it fall to the ground, uncaring, just moving. I don't stop, until I can't grab hold anymore and cut, without losing my fingers. Only then, do I open my eyes, and stare into the mirror. My hair is an inch or so long now, hugging my head, and sticking up in awkward, messy positions. The person who stands before me, in the looking glass, is a new person. I have to be someone new, the same, but new, to deal with this. I'm alone now, just me, inside my own head.

Wetting a piece of fabric I cut from my top after taking it off, I bring it to my face. Shirtless, I stand before the mirror as the radiation tickles my cheek. I wipe the blood away, feeling forever slipping away. The blood comes off easy, leaving behind a smooth image and feel of my skin. It doesn't leave any evidence behind, not even a stain. I wish it did. I don't know why, comfort, maybe.

Tossing the fabric into the sink, the brown liquid it mopped up seeps down the drain. I look at the outfit on my bed that I pulled out of the closet. Raider Paingiver. That's its name. It covers my legs, mostly, and leaves my top exposed to the elements. It'll do, I guess. The drive and desire to live has left me for the moment. Maybe forever. I can't tell you. My entire left arm will be covered, aside from my Pip-Boy, just…just like Charon's right arm was, in his armor. Other than that, it's different. I'm glad The Pitt has different armor. I didn't want to end up with the female version of Charon's. I don't think I can deal with things like that right now.

Slipping off my old mercenary armor, I don't pay much attention to it, as I toss it aside. I think about Charon's dogtags, and if leaving them was the best thing. Maybe I should have taken them. Maybe I should have kept them for myself, almost like a reminder. I didn't, though. Something that's so old and important to him, should be left with him. Even if they are no use, at least when someone walks by they'll see them, and say 'Hey, that's Charon…' and then he'll have a name. He won't be another nameless death. He'll mean something. He has to. He meant so much to me.

I slump on my bed, my armor fitting and stretching to my body. I feel nothing inside. Empty. Lost. I want to cry, to grieve and wail as I did in the Capital Wasteland, and as one should for their lost love. But I can't. I try, I do, but nothing comes out. My eyes…they don't even water. They stay clear as day, the floor of my room completely in focus. I can't cry for him. I want to, but I can't. I'm not sure…what hurts more. The fact that I can't shed a tear for the man who meant the most to me, or the fact that I can't care because of that. Picking my head up, I stare out the single window I have, at the flame-orange sky. Charon, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry.


	17. I'm Broken When I'm Lonesome

I go through it all in a crimson haze. The smoke doesn't make me cough, the people don't make me laugh, the feeling of dread that I can't stay this way forever, doesn't bother me. I just simply feel nothing, numb to all, in the most extreme way. People comment on me, when I walk around. They say my eyes are faded. They say I look as if I'm the walking dead. Some of them, some of them say I've lost my faith. Faith. Faith in what? What is there to have faith in? I can only have faith in the fact that this world will rip and tear all the things I find good from me. That if I dare love someone, this place will take them before my eyes. That if anyone expresses any concern for me, they're in mortal danger. My life is an open book, they should know this already, located in The Pitt or not.

Some of them, the people, they offer their shoulders. They offer themselves to talk. I don't want to talk, so I give them a blank stare. I push past them, wordless, and go about my random walking. I don't need anyone to help me. I've done this all on my own, for so long. Why should I rely on anyone else anymore? Tell me, what is the point on becoming close to another, if they're just going to die in the end? There have been moments, moments at night where my gun has never looked so beautiful before. Where the barrel shines and sparkles in the glows of the fires in town, when the reflection of light in the sky hits it at night. I've held it. Held it to my head, and said simple prayers before I chicken out.

But this is it. This is my life. This is the life I was born to lead, if you want to get into the pre-determined fate. I can ask all I want, if the people will mourn. If and when my death reaches the Capital Wasteland, will they care? Will anyone shed a tear, for Dezbe the Lone Wanderer and Vigilante of the Capital Wasteland? Will I be left on the surface, or buried? Will a marker be placed, and if so, what will it say? It won't say anything. I won't be buried. I don't think anyone will care to even close my eyes, if I die with them open. I truly, don't believe that my life holds any value.

I have to accept it now. Accept fate, whatever my fate may be, and accept everything that comes with it. The people say I'm broken. They have no idea. They never knew me before, never met Charon. They, like most, didn't get the chance to see me with him. They didn't see the spark of life that flared in my eyes, didn't feel the shivers of his touch, and the laughter that came with our petty fights. They didn't watch us, on cold nights, as we held one another tightly into the night. They have no idea, how broken I am now. How I only wanted to run away to some satellite dishes, how I just wanted to sit in silence, with my guns and my ghoul, and live out a peaceful life. My wanderlust and attitude didn't let me. The people of the Capital Wasteland, didn't let me. Funny, how I get the secluded life I wanted, only after the person I wanted to share it with is taken from me. The whole scenario, is so ironic, it almost makes me want to laugh, almost.

I still haven't been able to cry for him. No grievance has been in my past or present. I can't. I don't know why, I just simply can't. I just let everything swim by me, in a fluid rush of noise and movements, and walk through in a foggy daze. I don't think I've spoken since I got here. A wave of my hand, a look in the eye, is all one really needs for an acceptable response here. They don't pry, and I like that. They don't make up lies, or bad things, they just say I'm sad, and something is wrong. I like that, too. That I don't have to explain myself or fight for my reputation. At this point, though, a reputation is such a minor thing. I don't think I'd care, even if it was horrible. I can't care for much of anything unimportant anymore.

I find myself sitting on coals. Not hot ones, just cold ones. There's a hot thing at my feet, an old fire near Haven. I just want to sit near it, and chain smoke in silence. I still have things to get to. Reality can't be run from forever. As much as I want to run from it, I can't. I have to go back soon, and I have to pick what I want to do. I can return to the Capital Wasteland. I can go and fight against the Brotherhood and try to single-handedly disband them. It's a suicide mission, really. Or, I could continue running. Wernher said he'd keep tabs, and he has been. Every morning he's been telling me that no one suspects I'm hiding out here. Even if I don't think I can fully trust him, I do anyways. Last thing anyone wants here is the Brotherhood moving back in. Ashur was a Brotherhood soldier, remember?

If I stay here, and continue to run, I really would be turning my back. My back on all my life's 'work' if you want to call it that. My back on Gob and Zack, but they should be safe. I'd be turning my back on those who've tried to help me. I can't think of any particular names. I'd be running from a war that I didn't cause, but became the center of. Or, if I returned, I could fight and most likely die, for a cause I don't believe in anymore. There isn't much I believe in nowadays. Change, whatever way it goes, is inevitable. The Capital Wasteland can change all it wants. The Brotherhood can move right on in and start a civil war and that'd be change enough in my book. But why fight in something, if no one will remember it? Why go in, and die for a land that I don't even particularly like anymore? It isn't for my mother or father at this point. It isn't for survival or the freedom of the people. It would be for nothing. The people heard my story from GNR, and they didn't even care. They didn't care to open their minds and maybe, possibly think, that I was just a kid when all this happened. A dumb, stupid, nineteen-year-old kid, with no training or expertise and no parental guidance, right from the vault. No, no thinking like that might be just too hard.

Instead, they hate me. Even now, I'm sure, word of Charon's death has traveled far and wide. People must talk, saying now that the infamous Dezbe walks alone. They're going to say I killed him, just like they say I killed my father. And there's nothing I can do to stop it, because I frankly don't care. Let them live and talk and think what they want about me. As far as I know, I did my part. I did, and that's all that matters.

If I keep running, though, then what does that make me? A coward? A cheat? What? Will running and hiding from the Brotherhood for the rest of my life, make me happy? I'll be alone for a while, if not for the rest of my time on earth. Running alone, being alone, eating alone, smoking alone. There was a time when being alone was all I wanted. But then…then you get use to other voices. To company. To dependency and emotions. I don't think I'm strong enough anymore, to do anything by myself if I don't have to. I almost didn't make it here. Almost sat and waited for the Brotherhood to do away with me beside Charon. A large part of me, wishes I had.

"Hey."

A girl's voice rings out in my ears. I glance up, and see a Pitt civilian walking towards me. She has purple hair, and it's cut in simple pigtails. She smiles. I look back at the fire.

"You're Dezbe, right?"

A plume of smoke escapes my lips. I don't answer her. She sits beside me, her knees up to her chest as she rests her cheek on top of them.

"My names Jackie. They call me Jack, or at least, they used to. It's been a while since anyone's called me that."

Silence still, on my part.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

As some females have the ability to, she realizes I'm not talking for a reason. Yet she notices that reason has nothing to do with her, and I'm not being rude. It catches me off guard a bit.

"…You saw something, didn't you?"

I turn my head to the right to look at her, smoke coming from my nose as I puff on my cigarette. A nod comes, slowly, but it comes. It's something other than a look or wave I've done in ages.

"What was it?"

"…Nothing."

I mutter, my voice hoarse from lack of exercise. Even when I left the vault for the first time, I talked to myself. I haven't spoken in a week or so.

"You saved us, you know."

Nodding, I lean forward to toss my cigarette into the old fire. She sees my scar.

"I was in the audience when that happened, that scar. I helped Midea bring you to her house."

"…Thanks."

"We didn't think you'd make it. You were really hurt."

"I remember."

We're silent for a bit, which isn't a big deal to me. I don't mind the silence. Sometimes…sometimes it's the only thing reliable.

"How long are you staying for?"

Jackie asks, trying to make small talk, hoping in her own way small talk will heal the wounds of almost seven years.

"I don't know."

My simple answers are going to aggravate her eventually. Maybe then, she'll leave me alone. Letting me sit, alone, and by myself as I want to. I have to get use to being alone.

"You going to go back? You know, to your home?"

"I don't have a home."

She sighs, and tries again in a last-ditch effort.

"You know, before you came and liberated us, we were a lot like you. We were numb, and not wanting to face reality. All of us were quiet, too scared to speak, to sad to open our mouths. There wasn't hope, even when word of Wernher's plan reached our ears. We didn't believe in much. But…then reality came. As much as we had all tried to avoid it, tried to not see the hurtful lives of what we were, we had to. When that time came…we found it wasn't that bad. The Raiders were fighting and shooting, and we had weapons to fight back. In the middle of it all, the fighting and whatnot, I realized that sometimes, reality isn't as bad as you think. That sometimes, it can surprise you."

Blinking, I look away from her, and narrow my eyebrows.

"I can't cry. I can't feel anything. I want to, but I can't. I don't know why."

I say, and she's quiet for some time. I don't have to explain, because she picks it up. That's good, because I don't want to talk about it.

"Sometimes…our emotions are so powerful, that our mind won't let us feel them. Because…because we know if we felt them, good or bad, it would kill us. It would drive us mad and insane and we'd be nothing. I think…I think sometimes, feeling numb and empty, is the only way we can live."

Her words make sense, they're deep, and I don't have to find any hidden meaning in them. In my mind, it works. I watch her from the corner of my eye, as she stands up without another word. She leaves, walking away and not looking back. I probably won't ever see her again, but it doesn't bother me. She's right, though. I cared so much about Charon, that losing him does kill me. If I felt the pain of it, all at once, it would be the death of me. It would overpower me, and I'd be rendered useless. This solitary thing I've been on has just been my body's way of coaxing me back into it all. I can't say how long it'll last for, but now I know, I'm not crazy.

I stay there, for a bit longer staring into the fire. I stare into it, before I realize I can't see much of it anymore. It becomes blurry and disoriented. I feel scared for a bit, until I feel the wetness sliding down my cheeks. I'm crying. Pulling my knees to my chest, I hide my head in them. My legs press the top of my short hair, as my throat constricts into a small passage. The tears, they come so fast. So rapidly that a pool forms at my pant's button. I can't stop them, I don't want to stop them. I sob, a moan or wail peeking through. I stay there.

I sit that way, until my cries carry over the noise of the machines. Until all is rendered silent, except for my noises. My crying, desperate, haunting wails sift and float over everyone, as it falls public. I hug my legs, curling myself into a protective ball. The noise of a girl whose lost her one love fills the hearts of the citizens. They stop what they're doing, to listen, to hear. They hear, why I'm so broken, why my eyes are faded and dull. Why they've received nothing more than looks from me. And they sympathize. They don't pity, they don't pat me on the back and offer false words of comfort. No. Instead, they simply listen, their own sad stories spilling out on top of mine. I can't see them, but I feel them.

Picking my head up, I toss my head back as if I'm howling. My tears run down the side of my face, my eyes close to the bright lights of the orange sky. Guttural cries pour from my mouth and lungs, as every bit of pain leaves. As all the hurt and suffering I've carried with me for so long, leaves, and a weight is lifted from my shoulders. I loved him. I love him still.

My wails soften to mere whimpering, as I put my head back between my chest and thighs. Deep breaths replace sobs, as tears still flow unrestricted. The pain stabs away at me, eating me, making my chest quiver and shake. I press my hands against my face, touching the last place he touched. I want to feel him again. I want to sit beside him, and talk about nothing. I want to have stupid fights and arguments, and wake up naked beside him. I want to hear his grunts and deep breathing, as we forget reality and spend the night naked in each other's bodies. I want it all back again, the adventure, the trials, the romance. But I can't, and the pain reminds me of that.

I cry into my hands, quiet now. I wet them with my tears, as my fingertips grasp at my short, short hair. There is no Charon anymore, to pick my chin up, and kiss my head. No bodyguard, to fight with me under an overpass about the value of my life. No mercenary, beside me to fight and have my back. No voice of reason and tactics, when I fall into a situation that has no escape. There is only me now. Only me, who must make the choice to stay or go, to live or die, to be free or die trying. I can't do it alone. These choices and decisions, have always been made by Charon. To find my father? Charon. To continue on and start the Purifier? Charon. To keep it clean or pollute the FEV? Charon. His words and guidance have kept me going, kept me on the path that I was too scared to walk alone. And now…now I am alone, and have to make my own path.

Wiping my eyes, I blink and lift my head. I'm still alone, as I sit on the side of Haven near the warm, old fire. There are no standbys, just people walking with a dark cloud over them. They've heard my cries, and they cried with me. People who have only caught a glimpse of me twice in the span of almost seven years, know me better than the people I lived around for six. If I make a choice, be it stay or go, I have to remember them. I have to preserve the life, that they are grateful to me for giving. I'm not alone in a spiritual sense anymore, just physical. And…emotional. But knowing a community will support you, when they don't even know why or how, is enough to make the pain of losing Charon a bit easier to deal with. Just a bit, a small, small bit.

Standing up, I'm still hiccupping and breathing deep and there's still tears running down my face. But it's okay. I have enough of a head to make it back to my room, or even inside at the very least. Even if I can't stop the onset of tears and mourning, it's best I get inside regardless. Maybe then, I can remember things easier and better. Maybe then…I can get this out in one feral swoop and figure out what it is I want to do. What Charon, would have wanted to do with me.

Being alone, away from him I mean, is a pain that I can't even begin to describe. It weighs me down, trying to keep me in one spot. I can't let it, though. I can't let it keep me outside, or even in the halls. I have to push it away until I can get to my room. Just there, is enough. I don't have to return to the Capital Wasteland today, or ever, I just want to get to my room. I am Alpha, and Omega, the beginning, and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst, from the fountains of the waters of life freely.

I get to my room, safety, and lock the door. Frantic, I fall on my bed and grip the blankets and pillows. I wrap myself in the blanket, using it as a cloak, a hood over my head. I snap my eyes shut and beg, beg my memories to remember the important things. Remember all he had ever told me about himself, all the times we shared together, everything I could.

Charon was born on February 3rd, 2054. His original name was Morten Fossum. 'Morten' is one of those overseas names. It means martial and warlike. During 2054, they began building the vaults. Charon was taken from his birthparents, or put up for adoption, I'm not quite sure. The facility got him, anyways. He became the best in his class. He graduated around twenty, in 2074, three years before the bombs fell. The President said he would no longer share petroleum with anyone outside the U.S. In 2077, the bombs fell, and Charon became hostage under Ahzrukhal, after helping build Underworld. The city was on fire for days and days, he said. It burned, burned, burned.

After Ahzrukhal took his contract from Carol and Greta, Charon began the ghoulification process. It froze him in the body of a twenty-three-year-old man. He stayed fit, strong, silent, and smart. He never lost his training. He served as a bouncer, for years and years after in the Ninth Circle of Underworld.

Then…in 2277…Charon meets a young girl. He's standing in the Ninth Circle, his mind empty from annoying thoughts, when she walks in. He's ordered to kill her, to end her life right then and there, like he has with so many other patrons who disobeyed or angered Ahzrukhal. But he doesn't. He doesn't follow through with the order. It's a rare moment, in Charon's life. Rare, and new. That same day, his contract is handed over to that girl, for fifteen hundred caps. It's all he's worth now. It isn't much.

From that day on, in Frebruary of 2054, Charon's life really…really wasn't all that fun and games. He's had moments, but never…never like any other normal person. Tears roll down my face, and I look at my hands in my darkened room. Even though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil. You, are with me. Your rod and staff, comfort me. Charon's on personalized biblical saying there, because he loved all things strange and bible-y. He loved a lot of things, secretly. Most of all…most of all…he loved me.

I don't bother to wipe my eyes. Instead, I light a cigarette, and hope the nicotine will clam my upset nerves. What am I going to do now? Where am I going to go? I'm not alone by choice, I'm not alone because I left Charon or vice versa. No, I'm alone by force this time. I could give up, you know. Give up and go about the rest of my life aimlessly wandering the world, uncaring where I end up, uncaring who I piss off or run into. Turn my back on the Capital Wasteland and let them fend for themselves. They're nothing but dirty, rotten, stinking, loser people anyways. They took Charon from me. I watched him die. I saw him die.

No, no I'm wrong. I'm wrong on so many levels. The people, they did nothing. They did nothing but listen and believe the vicious lies from the Brotherhood. It was the Brotherhood, from the very beginning. They were the reason for all the things that went down in my life, from the Enclave taking me to the start of the Purifier and more. The Brotherhood, from Sara and Gunny taking baby Zack, to firing the bullet that ended Charon's life. Suddenly…suddenly I feel a rage I haven't ever felt before.


	18. The Minor Fall the Major Lift

I let a few more days sift by, before I decide to make my move. With my hair cropped short, and my gun fully loaded, the combat knife strapped tightly to my thigh, I bid farewell to The Pitt. It's been nice, staying here away from it all, but I have a mission now. I have something I need to go back for, and things that can't be done without my doing. As much as I want to continue to stay here, out of the spotlight and away from harm, I can't. Reality calls, and it's either I go to it, or it'll come to me. It's easier to just walk into the mess, rather than wait for it to get big enough to reach you.

"Leaving so soon?"

Wernher says as he stands in the hall, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. I adjust the makeshift pack of useless things on my back, as I close my room door behind me. It's been fun, I guess, in a sense.

"I have to face the music."

"Ah, yes…any plans on how to confront these demons exactly?"

"Nope. Just going in with blinders on and my gun held high."

"That's usually how these things go. Need assistance?"

He's offering me his help, but I know better.

"You're needed here. Thanks for the offer, but it's better if you stay."

"Ah, I know. Just figured I'd taste adventure once more before I kick the bucket."

"You're not kicking any buckets anytime soon, Wernher."

"Good to see you're sort of back to your old self. You were a mess when you came here."

"I still am a mess. I'm just a more organized mess."

"Well, you take care. Remember if you need anything, the people of The Pitt are always willing to help."

"I know, thank you."

We shake hands, and nod heads. Wernher has no idea, how much of a mess I am inside. I'm not over Charon's death. I'm not over the pain or the hurt of it all, I just found a better way to hide it. I'm going back to the Capital Wasteland, and it brings a small comfort knowing that. Knowing I'm going back to fight my demons, and stand up to them once and for all. It's a suicide mission, I know, but I can't let Charon die in vain. I have to try, if anything. I just have to.

Leaving Haven, I don't directly go to the train station. Instead, I head over to the mills, and walk inside. The other day, I had something made. A small slab of metal, with a small inscription. It should be done now, and I need to pick it up before I go. People walk past me, smiling and waving. They know I'm leaving. Word travels fast, and when I told Jackie about returning to the Capital Wasteland, she was a bit sad to see me go. We became somewhat friends over these past couple of days, after her words provoked the tears and the painful mourning I so desperately needed to do. I promised her I'd say goodbye when I decided to leave, and her house is on the way to the train station. I'll stop in, on my way out.

It's warm in The Pitt and I like that. The atmosphere is a bit thick and smoggy, and it takes some getting use to, but overall it's pretty adaptable. There's no more Trog, thanks to Marie, and the people stopped going so insane. No more Wildmen, and no more real crime. Of course, everyone has a weapon and carries it on them like it's another limb, but no one fights. Eventually I'm sure that will change, but for now, it's a decent place to live. Even with all the noise here, it's quiet. Sometimes, quiet is a good thing.

Making my way into the congested mills where the steel ingots are collected and used as not really a form of currency, but rather trade, I find Harthrow, the man who said he'd make the slab of steel for me.

"Ah, Dezbe."

He greets me with a hug, and notices the small pack I have on my back.

"Leaving us already?"

"I have things to do back home, Harthrow."

"I see, well, we can't keep you here forever. Although, a lot of people have taken a liking to you."

I smile, and put my hands on my hips.

"That's a damn good thing. Hey, I might come back for a visit, you never know. Say is my thingy ready?"

Harthrow nods and turns away from me. He looks underneath a strange work bench, and finds what he's looking for.

"I say, of all my work done here, I've never seen two dates so far apart. You sure you have them right?"

The metal slab is small and light. It fits in my hands, and it's covered with a thin, white cloth.

"Yeah, yeah positive."

"Things live a long time out there where you're from, huh?"

"As long as nothing kills them."

Anger seeps into my words, and Harthrow notices. I didn't mean to take it out on him, sometimes things just slip. But he smiles, assuring me that he doesn't take it personally.

"Well, you come back now for a visit. We're going to miss you."

"Thanks Harthrow, I'll see you around."

"Take care."

I hold the metal slab wrapped in the white cloth tightly in my hands. Stepping down from the platform, I start to head on out of The Pitt. People stop me from time to time, to say goodbye and shake my hand. I let them, and I talk back, because I'm grateful to them. Some of them want me to come back soon, and others wish me the best of luck in whatever it is I'm doing. I want to tell them that luck has nothing to do with it, and that I'm going back for revenge. Revenge is sweeter when it's waited, but I can't really wait anymore. There's a point I have to prove, and a message that needs to get across. A young girl's aching heart is on the line, and people will _know_ now, I mean business. The chances of me surviving are slim to none but…hey…I have to do it.

Jackie's house is the last place I need to stop. It's just before the exit off to the bridge, and I can tell she's waiting inside. How? Her pacing silhouette in the window, that's how. If I've ever had another friend aside from Gob and Nova, Jackie's it. Of course, she knows nothing about me, or the Capital Wasteland, or even Charon for that matter. All she knows, is that I'm someone pretty interesting. I watch her for a bit, pacing back and forth, her head shaking as she scratches her bald head. Aside from the pigtails, Jackie's pretty much a baldie. It works for her, though.

Still clutching the metal slab, I walk into her house without knocking. She jumps, surprised, then realizes it's me.

"Oh Dez, you scared me."

"Just came to say goodbye is all."

Jackie frowns, biting her lip. She picked that up from me. I get the urge to light a cigarette, so I put my pack down on the floor. It's nothing big, just a small pouch over my shoulder so I can carry things to repair my new armor with, and a few extra shell casings. Now that I have Charon's combat knife, I don't plan on doing a lot of ranged weapon work. I want this to be personal. It _is_ personal. Shoving the metal into the pack, I reach into my pocket and pull out a cigarette. Jackie takes one too, and we light them on the same flame. I look at her eyes, she's serious about something, I just can't tell what.

"So…you're heading back to the Capital Wasteland, huh?"

"Yeah. I have things to do over there. Unsettled scores."

"What's it like, anyways? Your homeland?"

"It's barren. Lots of rocks. Some old buildings, people. A lot more spacey than here I can tell you that much. There's sun, and stars at night. It gets chilly at night, though, so sometimes you have to light a fire."

"Dez?"

"Yeah?"

She takes in a deep breath, holding her cigarette and balling her free hand into a fist.

"I want to come with you."

I nearly choke on the smoke as I take a drag. Jackie wants to come with me to the Capital Wasteland? A native Pitt citizen, wants to leave the compound-like home she's been born and raised in, and come with me? Who am I to say no?

"You know, Jackie, it's pretty dangerous."

"Can't be worse than here."

"There's Super Mutants and Deathclaws."

"I don't know what those are."

"You're going to need some weaponry."

She pulls out a 10mm SMG. I smirk at her.

"Got that covered."

"And medical supplies."

Jackie picks up and shakes a small side pouch, smirking at me.

"I had this planned."

"I can tell."

I say, a smile wanting to creep over my face. It doesn't though, because I remember that by this time tomorrow, I'm back to being a vigilante. It's not a sad feeling, and I don't feel sad as Jackie runs around her small house for last-minute things. Instead, I feel angry. Anger is what's really driving me to do this, driving me to go back. I want revenge, for all the things the Brotherhood has done to me, for all the people they've taken from me, who've meant things. I can't care less about anything else, really. I just have one thing on my mind. One thing, that keeps me going and wakes me up.

If my anger and need and want for revenge wasn't there, I wouldn't be able to drag myself out of bed in the morning. I have dreams about Charon. They're memories, really. I dream about memories we shared, those trivial times in our past together, that seemed so damned important. I dream mostly, of the night we first had sex in the abandoned house, and how much it meant to me. How beautiful, it was. I wouldn't trade that moment for world peace, or anything of greater value. Closing my eyes for sleep, seeing and feeling those precious feelings and momentary feelings of pleasure, is the one thing I have to look forward to these days. I get mad, upset, and I cry when I wake up and realize it's all a dream. A dream of a memory.

Touching the place on my cheek, where Charon's hand last touched me, I stare at Jackie. She's smiling, young and excited for a new adventure. She's only twenty-two, and reminds me a lot of myself. That blind drive for adventure, the want and need to get out of the place she's been confined in and see how big the world his. Her life, was filled with slavery and torture. She holds the same anger and resentment for the same people I do. I won't tell her she can't come, because I want her help. I need her help. When she finds out I'm after the same people Ashur spawned from, I know she'll help me. There's no denying it.

"Ready?"

I ask, running my fingers through my short hair. Jackie smiles at me, nodding her head.

"All set."

"No goodbyes?"

"Nope. I just want to head on out into the great unknown."

"Alright then. Stay close."

Jackie nods, and follows me out of the house. She's a ball of excitement, as we make our way through the chain-link fence and towards the bridge.

"Are there cute guys in the Capital Wasteland?"

"Yeah, but most of the time they want to kill you. There's Raiders."

"I _hate_ Raiders."

I wave my hand in front of my face.

"Nah, these guys are just drugged up, sad, broken little economies of the Raiders you're used to. Easy kills, really."

"Kills?"

"Oh, yeah. If you don't kill, you'll be killed. It's how it is there."

"I've never killed anyone before…"

"Well then you better get it out of the way fast. It's near impossible to not kill someone out there. Hey wait, how'd you fight in the revolt then? If you've never killed, then…well, I'm confused."

Jackie smiles bright and wide, her cheeks turning into almost perfect circles. She puts her hands on her hips, as if she's proud of something. I can't think of much to be proud of.

"By the time I found a weapon, everyone was dead. Since then I've been itching to go out and fight. I want to _live_ and be _free_!"

I raise my eyebrow as we walk over the middle of the bridge. Jackie has no real idea of what she's getting into. This life isn't the glamour that everything idolizes it as. That everyone in the vault would talk about. You know, living on the wild side, killing bad guys, and coming out the hero. Sometimes things don't turn out that way, and sometimes, you lose people you love.

"Well, you'll see for yourself soon enough. If you ever want to come back to The Pitt, just let me know and I'll escort you back."

"Escort?"

"Well yeah. There's tons of baddies out there, just waiting to get a piece of you. Raiders waiting to beat you senseless and rape you, mercenaries hired to bring back an ear or finger, animals wanting to eat you, Deathclaws wanting to rip you to shreds, and Feral Ghouls wanting to munch on your corpse. Plus the random encounters of strange and odd beings."

In a way, I'm trying to crush her dreams. Trying to make her realize that the whole deal with her idea of adventure isn't that great. There's horrible things out there, scary, bad, and evil things. Things that your nightmares can't even come up with. If I can spare the girl from seeing a bunch of this, then well, she'll turn out alright.

"You can't sway me, Dez. I know you're trying to be all warning and all, but sometimes, I need to see it for myself."

Yeah, I said that too forever and a day ago. Shrugging I just nod my head and agree with Jackie. I mainly want her around so that I don't have to do this alone. Even if I have to bring her all the way back here before I get to what I want to do, that's fine. Having an extra voice never hurt, and maybe at night I won't feel so sad and lonely. Although…at night…Charon would tell me stories about stars, about his past, or we'd talk about recent events. Like politicians. I don't know enough about the stars to tell Jackie, and she's not old enough to have the kind of stories Charon had. There's a sadness, coupled with this off-kilter pairing.

We get to the platform that'll take us to the Capital Wasteland. Setting my pack on it and turning on my Pip-Boy light, I turn to face Jackie.

"Last chance to run away scared."

She smiles at me, and hops on the platform.

"Not a chance."

Well, alright then. I lift myself up, and make sure my pack won't fall off the edge. Once I get this thing going, I don't really think there's much of a chance of stopping it. Guided by the green light of my Pip-Boy, I start to pump the handle, and the wheels start to turn. Jackie jerks a bit when it starts to move, but she regains her balance. She looks around like a kid in a candy store, but really there's nothing to see. Just a black tunnel for a couple of miles. It takes about two and a half hours to get from The Pitt to the Capital Wasteland on this thing. But then again, I don't let it go too fast. A steady stream of pace easing me back into the real world is what I need. There's no real rush. I have to plan, anyways.

Sitting down, I let my feet dangle over the edge. Grabbing my pack, I take this time to examine the metal slab I had engraved. Pulling it out, I take away the white cloth, and use my Pip-Boy light to look at it.

_Charon_

_2-3-2054 – 11-14-2283_

'_I fear no evil, for your rod and your staff, keep me safe…'_

I run my fingers over the lettering. It's beautiful. I'm not sure yet, where I want to put it exactly. There's a lot of places I'm sure mean something to him, but I', thinking the best place to put it is Underworld. Or rather, what's left of Underworld. He spent most of his after-war time there, and it's where we met. It's where we spent our first night of romance together, kissing until our lips were swollen and purple. A lot of fond memories for both of us, are in that place, and I don't think a detour there is out of the question.

"Hey, what's that?"

Jackie asks, and I quickly cover the slab over again with the white cloth.

"It's nothing."

"No, no you're lying come on, tell me."

In the dim light of my Pip-Boy, I give her a solid glare. It's one that tells her to keep quiet, and she knows better. She shrugs, and points instead to my Pip-Boy.

"Alright then, what's that? I've been meaning to ask you about it."

"Oh, it's my Pip-Boy. I got it in the vault."

"Vault?"

"Yeah uh, underground homes built to keep the citizens before the war safe. It's a bit more complex than that, but that's the general. I lived there till I was nineteen, then I ventured out in the Capital Wasteland."

"So, what's it do? Aside from giving off light I mean."

"Lots of things. It tells me my health, gives me world and location maps, shows me where bad guys are, and keeps files and records stored in the database."

"Wow, can I try it?"

"Actually, it's pretty hard to get off. Plus, it's kind of wired to my DNA so…it probably wouldn't work to you."

"How'd you get it on, then?"

"We got them on our tenth birthday. It was a big deal where I come from, kind of like a passage into adulthood."

Jackie nods and I begin to show her the different things the Pip-Boy offers. She's amazed, especially when I show her how to change the colors. Without thinking, I switch over to my 'notes' section and Charon's pre-ghoul picture pops up. I can't clear it away fast enough.

"Hey, who's that?"

When it vanishes from the screen, I put my arm down and grip the edge of the moving platform with my fists. We've kept a pretty decent speed up.

"Nothing. It's nobody."

"Friend of yours? He's cute. We going to see him?"

I look away from her. Look away, and off back towards The Pitt. You can't see the light from it anymore, there's nothing really to look at. It's all black, the platform being the only lit thing thanks to my Pip-Boy. Hurt flows in my veins, as I realize that…no, I'll never again see Charon. I guess things like this, hit you over a span of time, and at the worst possible moments. It dawns on me, that I'll never see him ever again. That he won't come back, gun-slung and blood-splattered. He's gone forever, and going back…going back to the Capital Wasteland makes this realization hit me harder than it would if I had stayed in The Pitt.

"No. No we won't."

I tell Jackie, forcing my voice to remain neutral. She doesn't pick up the subtle hints, the ones that I'm trying to use to tell her to drop the subject. The ones that say to back off, that I don't want to talk about the mysterious man in my Pip-Boy. That sometimes, I just want to keep my business and my past, just that. My own. She keeps asking, prying with useless questions. Wanting to know what the slab is for, who is in that picture, how do I know them, and other things. I want to scream at her. I want to scream that they're the same person. That man in the picture, and the name written on the slab are the same being. That at one point in my life, they were my driving source. My savior, my protector, my comfort, my voice of reason, my everything. Her prying so constantly, feels almost like an insult. Like she doesn't care enough, to just shut up. As if she doesn't respect his memory. But…then again…she doesn't know he's dead.

"So come on, what _gives_?"

Her last question sends me over the edge, and I blurt it out before I can stop myself.

"He's dead."

Saying it aloud…admitting it like that…I stare blank at the moving rock walls in front of me. The platform hits something, it jolts, I don't feel it. My heartbeat pulses in my ears, as everything has a dull ringing undertone. Jackie's mouth moves out of the corner of my eye, but I can't hear her. Her words, literally fall on deaf ears. Slowly, I move my head to look at her, my eyes wide, my face blank, and the thoughts that swim in my pupils are empty. He's dead, I said it out loud. It's true now. There's no turning back. I feel my hands shake, as they grip the side of the platform. Each of these new realizations are hitting me too fast, all at once, I can't take it. I can't.

Shakily, very shakily, to the point where Jackie looks at me with deep concern, I pull a cigarette out and light it. She has to hold my hand in hers, so that I can match the flame with the cigarette. It lights, and my teeth have to clamp down on the filter to keep it from falling. My breath makes the flame on my cigarette burn brighter and faster, I can't stop hyperventilating. But it's not as dramatic as once would thing. It's deep, slow, paced, as my fingers pull the cigarette from my lips. I close my eyes, tightly, tighter, more. Images flash. I'm in Rivet City.

Rivet City. I'm injured. I'm better. I'm in the medical room. The bolts and steel walls, they're hard to mistake. I don't feel well, I'm hurt, but I can't find where. I sit up, and I see him. I see him, in his black tee shirt, his head resting on his shoulder. His hands are neatly placed on his gun, that rests on his knees as his body relaxes, in a rare moment of sleep and peace at once. His eyes are closed, and in a way, he looks like a ghoulified child. Patches of his red hair hug his head, as the chair hugs his body. Even in his sleep, his finger is on the trigger of his gun. I love that moment, I love that image, as his chest moves up and down with slow, deep and steady breaths. He's sleeping, just sleeping…

Opening my eyes I grip my pants tightly in my fists. Tears don't fall from my eyes, I've cried so much these days that I don't think there's anything wet left in me. Instead I tear my gaze from the wall as the platform rolls steadily towards the Capital Wasteland. I look at Jackie, her eyes are wide with fear. She has, no idea, of the horrors that await her.

"I…I'm sorry…"

I choke out, my voice finding my throat and its sound. Jackie takes my free hand in hers, and pats it, trying to offer comfort over something she knows nothing about. I thank her in my mind.

"The…the reason you couldn't cry when we met…was because of him, wasn't it?"

I nod, expecting to see and feel my hair around my shoulders. Expecting it to hide me. It's gone. I'm a different person now, right?

"I'm sorry, Dez. Is there anything I can do?"

Shaking my head, I take another drag from my cigarette. My hand shakes, as it brings the filter to my lips. I catch a quick glimpse, of the exposed bone on my wrist. Memories, you can't hide from those. They come after you, even if you try so hard to forget them, they come back. With a force, a vengeance, they come and seek you out. They want you back. They want to ensnare and entrap you within themselves. I can't hide from them, but I want to. I do, I truly, truly do.

"Did you love him?"

As if the answer isn't obvious, Jackie asks me the question I'm so scared of answering aloud, but I do anyways.

"Yeah…I did…"

"I'm sorry, that you had to lose someone you loved."

It happens here, in the Capital Wasteland. Love is a rare thing to find, a hardship to be endured. Beautiful music plays in my mind, as I force my gaze away from Jackie. I play the song in my head, our song, mine and Charon's. That beautiful, melodic piano of Hallelujah. The platform rattles and creaks on the tracks, but the noise adds to the beautiful sounds in my head. The song, it represents so much. It means, so much. It's as if someone had seen the future, and wrote our story inside of it. I never kissed him goodbye. I never got…never got to say goodbye. He was gone, before I was able to accept it.

Love…love is not a victory march. It's a trial. It's cold, it's broken, it's something worth sacrificing everything for. Something so beautiful, people have died for it in the past. It's a sad, sad, story, when love is at the center. I remember the night I knew I loved him, and above me the stars shone like a billion eyes watching and glistening. They cheered that night, as the fire died out, as the emotions I had tried so hard to never feel, drowned me.

At night, in The Pitt, I'd cry and no one could hear me. But they felt it. They felt the pain and the tears, from the lone girl who stayed up sobbing, from the emotions that poured from the wails and desperate cries. When everyone slept peacefully, warm in their beds, I lied awake, crying into the night, as if my heart was pouring itself out to everyone who wanted to feel it. To everyone, who wanted to feel and share with me, those dark and scary moments. And they did. Anyone who wanted to, shared with me. They shared the pain of loss, the pain of living on, when all you've been living for is gone. From my lips, I cried, and I cried out hallelujah into the night, without Charon's to stifle and quiet my cries. I cried, hoping, that if I cried loud enough he'd enter and take me in his arms. That he'd appear before my eyes, his arms open wide, his calm face being the salvation I had been trying so hard to reach. I hoped, I could run into those arms, and bury my face in the nape of his neck. Feel his strong arms around my small waist, holding me, supporting me, hushing me and comforting me with his guttural, accented voice. He'd tell me he loved me. Tell me everything was okay, because we were together again, and it would all be alright. But he never came. Night after painful, lonely night, he never came. But I prayed. And I hoped. Even though, I knew better. I still tried.

I don't wave our flag of love around proudly. I don't run around, comparing our relationship to those of everyone else. I keep our romance, the good and the bad, hidden and locked away inside. It isn't a victory march, it isn't a flag to wave, it's a sad and painful memory. It's a symbol, of what once was, and what was able to grow from the hurt and the sadness that surrounded us. That in the middle of mayhem and massacre, Charon and I found a sense of peace, reliability, loyalty, trust, and tranquility that no one before had ever offered. I'll keep those memories locked away. Tucked into the furthest corners of my mind. Only I will ever know how deep our love ran, how it held us together through even the near-death moments. How even with his dying breath, he held my hand in his, and his cloudy eyes focused only on me. The feel of his body against mine, as he carried me to safety too many times to count, will stay with me forever. The sacrifice and trials we went through together, to stay together, to live, as we wanted to live. I won't speak of him, like I never spoke of him in New Vegas. I won't brag and boast, about the man who risked his own life so many times, to save my own or bide our time. I won't praise him to others. He's worth more to me, than that.

"What was his name?"

Jackie asks, pulling my mind and thoughts back. I blink, and turn my head to her. I don't want to talk about him. It hurts, it's too soon. But a name…a name is not what makes a person, or a memory.

"His name…his name was Charon."

"He loved you, too?"

"Yeah…yeah he did…"

"How did he die?"

"I don't…I don't want to talk about it."

She understands, and I forgive her lapse of judgment. Sometimes people get too curious for their own good. It's nothing to get angry about, just something to accept and move on from. I look down the tunnel, and check the time on my Pip-Boy. We should be arriving soon. Arriving. Arriving. I'll see the stars and they'll shine so bright and the moon will be so big…I'll see them and talk. I'll say 'Hey stars, you shine, you shine, shine, shine…' and they'll twinkle down at me. Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle.


	19. Where No One's Ever Been

Jackie is shaking with excitement, by the time the platform comes to a halt at the Capital Wasteland. The light above the door into the train station still shines, bright as the daylight sun. I look up at it, as I stand and wait for her to make sure she didn't lose anything. The metal slab in my pack digs into my back, reminding me to bring it to Underworld.

"Alright, I think I got everything."

After we started getting closer to the Capital Wasteland, the feelings of sadness and dread began to leave me alone for a bit. They're still there, but I can function. I can remember things and think clearly. I remember why I'm here, and it makes my blood boil. For all I know, I could open these doors and be faced with an array of Brotherhood soldiers. For good measure, I cock my gun and place it back on my hip.

"What you do that for?"

Jackie asks, joining me beside the door, under the light.

"Precaution."

I tell her, still not wanting to talk, skip, or be merry. I need to go to Megaton first and foremost, I have to see Gob. I have to make sure he's okay, you know, after the rain and snow freak storms we had. Plus…I have to tell him. If there's anyone in this world, who can give me any sense of comfort and relief from all of this, it's him. Getting back to him, is the problem. By now I bet the wastes are filled and crawling with soldiers, just aching to get a look at me. It's a risk I'll have to take though. Win some, lose some.

Opening the door, the sun greets me with it's warm and bright rays. I close my eyes, raising my chin to them. Hello sun, you shine, shine, shine. My nose crinkles at the lack of stench, and I take in a deep breath of nature-filled air. Traces of radiation seep into my nose, and my skin itches with the thought of finding a nice puddle to regenerate in. It's been a while, and a wet rag over a sink doesn't do much justice. I need my river, hoping that the fresh water hasn't yet taken away all the radiation. I should have never started that Purifier.

"Oh wow…_wow_!"

Jackie exclaims, looking out over the Capital Wasteland. In the very far distance, there's the Washington Monument and a faint outline of the ruined city. She's too busy taking in the landscape and being awed by everything to be on guard. I'll let her slide with it this one time, but any more and she'll get a waning. As beautiful as this place is, it's dangerous. I can't be put in jeopardy, and risk not completing what I came here to do over the awe of some girl. So while she's scoping it out and taking deep, fresh breaths, I'm checking around for red dots on my compass and movement out in front. Surprisingly, there's nothing. No indicators of red, no noise that comes from the throat of a Super Mutant, nothing. The Capital Wasteland is quiet. Something either is very right, or very wrong.

"Come on, Jackie."

I say, walking past her down the slope. She turns her head at every dead tree and standstill rock. I was that way once, though, so I can't bitch. But then again I learned a valuable lesson. Not to be stupid, because then, you get shot and when you're a virgin out here getting shot at, it's not fun. Least she has an SMG. Me? I had a pistol. Oh and a BB Gun. That counts for something, doesn't it?

"This is so _amazing_! You live out here? How do you get around? Where's your house?"

"I don't have a house, Jackie. I sleep outside or in abandoned homes, and I walk. There's no other means of transportation here."

I talk as I walk and pull up my map. Even though I know this place like the back of my hand, I want to make sure there's a marker set. Then, then I'll know if I'm getting off course. I have to stick to my plans for once, and not simply be sporadic in all of it. The differences of who I was and who I am, are scary. But who I was, never lived so much. Who I am, lives life every day. Even if who I am doesn't like it much.

"We're going here."

I zoom out on the map, showing her our current location at the most Northern part of the map. I point straight down to Megaton, and see her face fall with my finger.

"We have to walk _all_ the way?"

"It'll take a day or two, we'll sleep at night and eat what we can kill. It's not that bad, I've been everywhere here twice. Three times, if I liked the trouble."

"I don't think my feet can go that far…"

"You'll manage. Or else you'll die. So it's kind of an obvious choice."

Slight realization dawns on her. This isn't petty girlish games and fantasies, and soon she'll get the big picture of it. I have a feeling, though, Jackie and I aren't going to be sticking through this till the end. Something makes me think a pretty face or some twisted mission someone offers her might swoop down and take her away. I won't follow. As much as I want to keep her safe, I have to focus on myself. It's not selfish, it's survival. There's a reason for my homecoming now, a reason that was never there before. I have to act it out, and plan it in a way that Dez never really planned before. Jackie isn't going to get in the way, and she doesn't mean enough to me to chase after her. It's a horrible, cruel truth, but it's the truth. Sometimes, you have to accept it as is, and move on. Move on…yeah…that.

"So…so where's everyone else?"

Jackie expected this place to be crawling with people, like The Pitt is. Well, the Capital Wasteland is just a whole lot bigger, so people are a whole lot more spread out. Nothing much I can do about that, really.

"There's a caravan down there if you want to trade."

I point one out a few hundred yards away. There's a mercenary with them, and the Brahmin carries water. I can't go with her.

"Trade what?"

"Guns, ammo, get things repaired. There's a money system here, too. So if you find any bottle caps, keep 'em."

"Bottle caps?

"It's money."

She decides not to go to the caravan in the end, which is a good thing. Last thing I want is word getting to Rivet City, then to wherever the Brotherhood are camping out at. With the Citadel gone, I can't think of a place they'd be _other_ than Rivet City. After all, it is the safest place in the Capital Wasteland. Yeah. Safe my ass. One bomb and everyone there is dead as a doornail. Stupid people.

Out of nowhere, Jackie grabs my arm, shaking it violently.

"What's that! What's that!"

She yells and points and instantly, I clasp my hand over her mouth.

"Will you _shut up_?"

I hiss, not wanting to alert everyone in a hundred-mile radius that I've come back with a loudmouthed girl. Someone might think she's my hostage and wouldn't that be somethin' to talk about. She quiets her muffled cries, and I'm able to let her face go. With a scared, shaky hand she points to a figure walking towards us, dressed in mercenary gear. I smirk, looping my thumbs through my belt holes.

"A ghoul, is all."

"_Ghoul_?"

"Someone exposed to abnormal amounts of radiation. Like those zombie movies. Cept the only ones who'll hurt you are the skin-and-bone ones. They don't wear clothes and walk around."

To prove a point, I walk over to the ghoul. I know him. It's hard to miss an old friend, out here in the Capital Wasteland. They're scarce, friends and allies, so you tend to know them by the back of their head or the barrel of their gun. Before they can aim it at you, that is.

"Quinn…"

I sigh, walking closer. He looks like he doesn't recognize me, and stops walking. As I close the gap between us, Jackie hiding behind me, Quinn analyzes my face, before smiling.

"Hey."

He says, and we hug. It's been a while, since Underworld when I came back from New Vegas forever ago. We pat one another's upper arms as I pull out of the hug. He's all smiles, and I'm not. I don't think smiling is in my 'to do recently' list.

"How've you been? Almost didn't recognize you."

"Alright. Nice to see you out here. This is my friend who is sheltered and never met a ghoul before, so be nice. Her name is Jackie. Jackie, this is an old friend of mine, Quinn."

They shake hands and Jackie starts to get more comfortable. Quinn wants to talk to me though, and he makes that clear.

"Isn't that were my gun got you?"

In this outfit, my torso, shoulders, and arms beside my left are completely exposed. The scar where Quinn accidentally fired at me shows clear as day.

"Sure is. Nothing like a nice scar to immortalize a friendship, right?"

Quinn laughs, feeling embarrassed about that incident. I never held it against him, accidents happen. Plus, he was in the middle of a shootout between Super Mutants and the Brotherhood. I probably would have shot at him too, if he appeared over a pile of rubble.

"Right. Haven't seen you in ages. Holdin' up alright?"

"As right as I can be, Quinn. What are you doin' way out here, anyways? This is past the river and the city. Thought you would have stayed near the museum."

"Ah, well, what can I say? The need to trade and walk around aimlessly overcomes me sometimes. You know, Roy will be happy to see you. I do some trading between Tenpenny Tower and Rivet City. I'll tell him you're back in town."

"Actually, I'd prefer if you didn't. I'm trying to keep my return under wraps. Super secret covert mission, if you know what I mean."

Quinn smiles and winks at me. It's a lighthearted conversation, and I hope it stays that way. I don't want him asking about Charon.

"I gotcha covered. Alright get back to your mission, I'm sure we'll meet again. Always do, right?"

"Right."

We hug again and continue on walking. Jackie keeps close to me, still amazed and dumbfounded. A bit scared, too I think.

"Wow…wow oh wow…there are some fucked up things here…"

She mutters, and I roll my eyes.

"Ghouls like him are good. There's not really a bad ghoul out here, aside from the feral ones. Most of them are just regular people."

"They're rotting."

"But they're people."

"You're protective of them, aren't you?"

I sigh, looking down at my feet.

"Ghouls have been kinder to me, than any human out here. We're going to see my best friend. He's a ghoul."

"He _is_?"

"Yup. Some of them are really old, like, pre-war old. I forget if my friend is one of those pre-war ghouls, I think he is. Either way, he has a kid and if you're not nice I'll shoot you."

She laughs because she thinks I'm kidding. I'm not. I'm dead serious, but I'll let her think I'm playing around.

"A kid? You mean they…they _do_ it?"

I explain to her the sterile factor, and then explain Nova, and then tell her how Zack is a miracle. She hangs on every word. It's almost like she doesn't believe it, though, because I can see her nose crinkling and shaking. When I finish telling her the generals about ghoul reproduction and a brief summary of Gob and Nova, Jackie looks at me, wiping some sweat off her forehead with her hand.

"You've never done it with a ghoul, right? I mean, I just can't imagine it. Maybe it's because I've only met one ghoul but…I don't know. Is it common here to sleep with them? Do they smell?"

"No, they don't smell and no it's not common. Nova and Gob…they fell in love, that's all really."

I avoid her question about me. If I say no, it's a lie. If I say yes, then she'll ask about Charon. She might not, but either way it's a risk I don't want to fully take right now. Maybe in a month or year or ten, I'll be able to open up a bit more about him. About our lives together, and how we always fell apart but somehow found one another again.

"Ghouls, huh? Remind me a lot of Trogs."

"Same differences."

I say, shrugging. Even though it's still pretty early in the day, my eyes are scanning for possible future camping sites. With an inexperienced partner, I don't want to be held out in the open. I want shelter, something discrete and away from the threats. The Brotherhood really, is my biggest concern. Even though I chopped all my hair off, I'm still Dezbe. Someone's bound to recognize me, and blow my spot up. Last thing I want is for that to happen. My plan, whatever it may come to be, is purely based on stealth. No one can know I'm here, at least, no person of interest. Even going to see Gob is a risky thing, because I have this unyielding urge that the Brotherhood are watching him. Usually, my gut feelings are right.

"So, so this friend we're going to see, they're a ghoul?"

"He's a ghoul, yup. He was the first person I met when I got out of the vault."

"Where's the vault?"

"Near where my friend lives."

Right now, isn't the time to swap life stories. Or at least swap my life story with hers. I don't care to know. The less you know about one another, the less likely you are to care if they die. The only person I want to care about now, is Gob. It's my duty now, to protect him and Zack. Anyone who comes near me dies. I can't let that happen to them. I wonder…though, if because of that, I should even bother to see him. The Brotherhood are bound to be nearby, they're bound to be watching him. They know he's my friend. Will it put him in danger, if I risk visiting? I hope not, but either way, I have to think about it.


	20. Clear as Crystal

(Bigsley)

Dezbe runs off faster than I've ever seen anyone run. My heart fills with a mixture of hope, and sadness, as I watch the dirt kicking up from her running feet. I hope she finds somewhere safe to hide. Somewhere away from all of this, somewhere where she can live and be free without this burden. Yet, at the same time, an immense sadness washes over me. I watched such a personal moment for her, unfold in front of me.

From a distance, I watched as she clung to her beloved ghoul, carrying his weight and hers to a small, hardly irradiated puddle. The desperation in her voice moved me. She wanted him to live, more than I think she wanted to live herself. I knew he was going to die, and I'm sure she did too. Dezbe just simply didn't want to admit it, or let it happen. When the time came, and I saw his hand fall from her cheek, leaving behind a bloody print, something inside of me…I'm not sure. I felt her pain as if it was I in her place. As if I had just watched someone I loved so dearly, leave me forever. If there was any doubt of their love for one another before, it's gone now.

I'm not angry at her for attacking me, either. I would have done the same thing. Blame the person who has the evidence. By all means, she had every right to blame me. Here I am, a Scribe, traveling with her and the Brotherhood ambushes them from nowhere. It all points to me, even though I truly had nothing to do with it. I would have let her kill me, if I did. She didn't kill me, though, and I'll repay her for that. Somehow, I'll find a way to.

I watched her run, full speed into the horizon, and the Vertibird landed behind me. It's loud propellers cutting the air with a vicious longing. Dirt and dust kicked up around me, and I had to shield my eyes. I heard the Protectors shouting at the soldiers and Initiates to move out, to go after her and scan the area. When the noise of the propellers stopped, is when I was able to open my eyes.

"Stop!"

I shouted, as three soldiers moved close to the ghoul's body. Their weapons were raised, ready to squeeze the triggers at the first instance of movement. When my voice rang out, they turned to look at me.

"Stay back, Bigsley, we don't know if he's truly dead."

A soldier told me, but I shook my head. Blood slid down my cheek.

"No, he's dead. I saw him die. There's no tricks."

The three soldiers look at one another, before lowering their weapons. One of them nods, and another walks up to me.

"You're injured."

He says, as if I didn't know it myself. Nodding at him, he leads me onto the Vertibird, where the Protector stands.

"Scribe Bigsley, we're happy to have you back alive. Any other survivors?"

He's asking about her. About Dez. I don't know how I know this, but I do. I have to protect her, and I do.

"I don't know. The ghoul died in front of my eyes, but the girl was shot. The bullet pierced something vital, I know it. Blood doesn't spill that much on an insignificant wound."

"Did you see where the girl went?"

He hands me an ice pack for my face. I close my eyes, pressing it gently.

"By the time I was able to stand and focus my vision, she was gone. I don't know how long it took me to see straight, though. She cleared out fast, but I am positive she was shot."

"Even if she lives, then, we made progress. How did you survive with them?"

I want to tell him the truth. I want to explain to him, that these are not the horrible barbaric people we have so thought them to be. Then I remember the truth. I remember, how the Brotherhood had repeated and told vicious lies and tales about Dezbe and Charon, and saying they're kindhearted people against all odds, would mean going against the Brotherhood. If I want to protect Dezbe, and make her life a bit easier, I cannot say the truth.

"It was difficult. Somehow, they kept me alive. I don't know why, play, maybe."

"They didn't speak of anything, did they?"

"No, sir, nothing. They were careful not to mention important things around me."

"Good. Then if the girl lived, she's getting wiser. Neither one dropped hints as to where they might have been going?"

"No, I have no idea."

The last part is the truth. I don't know where she and him might have been going. I don't even know how far Dezbe got. All I can do is hope she got away, and doesn't come back for awhile. Things will be hot, and if she's as smart as I think she is she'll lie low. But I know, deep down inside, she'll come back. The Brotherhood took someone very important from her, and she won't let them get away with it. Those two…after seeing them together last night…they were one another's worlds. You can't take someone's world from them, and expect them to be alright with it.

"We need to get you back to the memorial, Bigsley. You're wounded badly."

"Nothing a few days rest won't fix."

"How did this happen?"

I sigh, and move the ice pack around my face with my eyes still closed. The soldiers come back on the Vertibird, I can hear their armor and heavy steps.

"After the ghoul was shot by a soldier, the girl tried to get him to safety. When he died, she came after me, blaming me for the attack. She was under the impression that I was somehow responsible for you finding her so quickly. Thank god, though, she didn't shoot me."

"I see. Soldier! Is the ghoul in radiation?"

Slightly, I open one eye. A soldier turns to face the Protector, and shakes his head.

"The radiation is hardly enough to close a pinprick. He's dead, Protector. There is no way he could heal in that small amount of radiation. Would you like us to take the body?"

"No, leave it be. If she returns and notices it missing, then she'll know we took it."

"Understood."

Charon becomes an 'it' in death. 'The body' and 'it'. No, those are not befitting words for him. I have read up on his past, his profile, some years back in the Jefferson Memorial. He's a high-ranking military, with skills that the best soldier in the Brotherhood can't compare to. Well-trained, well-armed, and well-motivated, it saddens me such a perfectly trained and intelligent person was brought down by nothing more than a stay bullet. I know Dezbe will be angry. I alone, know for a fact, she will return. I'm not scared of this, though, because something tells me she won't kill me. In turn, I'll help her best I can.

I'm glad they decide to leave his body. Lord knows, what they'd do to it back wherever they're setting up their camps. It's better, even with the harsh elements of the Capital Wasteland, that he remains where he is. I would rather sleep at night, knowing he is outside, than inside and being hacked up and sawed through. A man of his titles, accomplishments, training, and ability deserves respect even in death. What confounds me the most, about Charon even now, is his ability to learn. From reading his profile, he seemed to have been brainwashed into an unemotional being with no personality. From what I saw when he was with Dezbe, his emotions and personality clearly defined him. They made him up to be him. I know this trait is learned, that this came fairly recently.

"Scribe Bigsley?"

The Protector calls my name, and I open both of my eyes. My face is swollen, and I'm in pain, but I know it won't last.

"Yes?"

"We're going to bring you back to the memorial. I'm going to give all the people there to let you rest below until you're ready to work. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Alright, start the bird."

The engine powers up, loud, deafening. It hisses and whirs, making my head ache more than it already does. But the noise also blocks out the world. It allows me to think and reflect, to remember moments that have just passed. I won't ever be able to get the cry of Dezbe out of my mind, as she held Charon while he died in her arms. Even the loudness of the Vertibird won't quiet that painful, mourning, howl. It's not something you'd do, when lose a loved one. It's something that happens, when someone loses another that they truly, truly love. One that means more to them, than their own life. One that has been to hell and back, to heaven, and in between all those levels, beside you, in front of you, and behind you. Dezbe lived a life of solitude from a very young age, or so James stated when he returned to Project Purity. Charon must have been her only companion, after years of her being a recluse. I can understand her dependency. Understand, how a being can mean so much to another. She came to count on him, rely, and found emotions and loyalty in him. I'm unsure really, if she has anyone else. Even Raiders, have their gangs. But Dezbe…she's sure going to live up to the Lone Wanderer thing.

I knew that Charon was being held at Fort Independence. The Outcasts reported everything to the Jefferson Memorial, in a perfectly calculated and formulated plan. What bothered me the most about that instance, is when Charon was called in one night to give a report on Dezbe. What Henry was thinking when he allowed Charon to watch Dezbe, I will never know. It was his fault, and his ultimate mistake. Either way, Charon had reported that Dezbe told him something haunting. Something along the lines of 'Dead mother, life in a post-nuclear Wasteland and not a friend in it. Yeah, I'm not exactly blessed'. It haunts me, that even now, she can still say those things. But I can see, I can understand, why. Her life although I don't know much since I missed the GNR special, must be riddled with moments of humility, hopelessness, and loss. She must realize now, that everyone close to her leaves. Her mother died giving birth, her father killed by Colonel Autumn, and now Charon gunned down by the Brotherhood. Her father and her, however, weren't very close. Or so I was told in passing by James one evening. He regrets it, he said, that he never got to know his daughter the way he wanted to. He won't be able to, now, and I know Dezbe hurts over it. Deep down inside, she does.

When we land at the memorial, two soldiers escort me out. They walk on either side of me, as the ice pack is still pressed against my face. When we enter, they don't disperse and tell me their orders are to take me directly below to rest. For a minute, I'm scared. Scared that their underlying plan is to beat me senseless until the real truth comes out. It's silenced, though, when I reach a bed and lie down. They leave, and I realize that as a Scribe, I'm trusted. I'm trusted by the Brotherhood, and my cohorts. What I say, is never second-guessed. This, this can be used. Used to help protect Dezbe, and keep the Brotherhood away from her.

As I lie on the comfortable bed, any want or need of sleep leaves me. I know it's not smart to write anything down, so I choose not to. Instead I keep it locked in my mind, as I begin to create the rough draft of a plan. You see, if I can create evidence of Dezbe's death, I can protect her. I can bring that evidence to the Brotherhood, or even pay off Three Dog to announce it. Once they have solid proof of this, they'll leave her alone. There'll be an opening, for her to get in and come back with a vengeance, because no one will suspect it.

But what evidence? What and how could I possibly create this into a convincing story? It's going to be hard, but I owe her my life. She could have killed me, under false assumption, and left me there to die, but she didn't. Instead, she left me wounded and ran, far off into the distance. I kept the Brotherhood from chasing her, a needed distraction and I think she knew that. I think, somewhere in her mind she knew I would help her. I hope she still thinks that, because I am. I can't let the Brotherhood so wrongly accuse her of these things. I refuse to let Charon die for a meaningless cause.

Perhaps I could simply get to GNR, and let Three Dog know. He'll work with me on this, for the right amount of caps. Even though I have hardly a hundred, maybe I can convince him to. Last I checked, there weren't anymore soldiers down at GNR. We brought all we could to the Jefferson Memorial, and there hasn't been any scattered anywhere for years. Although this is good news, what troubles me is how am I getting to GNR? People will notice my sudden absence, and eyebrows will be raised. Maybe I could find another excuse to leave, once I'm better?

Right now, I can't think of any logical explanation. My head throbs with pain, my eyes are near swollen shut, and dried blood makes my face uncomfortably itchy. I try to relax, and think of other things. Yet the burning image, of Dezbe clinging to a lifeless Charon haunts me. She had begged him to stay, pleaded, claiming she needed him. Many people die every day out here. Their bodies left to the sands of time, to scavengers of items, and hungry beasts. No one gives a second thought, to a dead body rotting in the sun. The smell of death isn't anything different, than the smell of radiation out here. But for Dezbe, losing someone meant everything to her. Charon didn't die a poor sap alone, taken over by Raiders or the now-gone Talons. He wasn't killed by a wild animal, and mauled beyond recognition. No, instead he lost his life by a single bullet, mirroring the great warrior Achilles. As if his Greek-given name, wanted to shed some light on his symbolic presence. His weak spot, the only one unprotected by armor, hit by a stray bullet, the same that Achilles' heel was hit by a poison arrow. A great warrior, known to all military branches as one of the cleverest and deadliest of all, fell today. A warrior who…who meant so much to someone, that her cries of pain echoed far beyond the horizon and edge of the Capital Wasteland. I'll remember him, just as Dezbe will. I'll remember Charon, the trained mercenary, the killer, the lover, the loyal employee, the one who saved and protected the one person who gave this world fresh and clean water. I'll remember him, and I'll help his memory, and do whatever it is I can, to keep Dezbe here on this Earth, alive, well. I'll help her, if it means dying myself.


	21. Pray to God He Hears You

We're being followed. It doesn't take much to realize that. But somehow, Jackie seems to be oblivious to all around her. Well, all she doesn't want to see that is. When someone is following you, you can't outwardly tell your partner to shut the fuck up. It gives too much indication that you know you're being followed, and will probably present a fight without being properly prepared. I can understand her ignorance and stupidity, though. If Charon hadn't take then time, so many years ago, to train me briefly I wouldn't have noticed it myself. Small noises, things rustling louder than the wind, the soft noise of dirt crunching beneath someone's feet, are all indications. Plus, the glimmer of movement from the corner of my eye helped me figure it out, too.

"Why don't we play the quiet game?"

I suggest, hoping she'll stop pacing about and sit down. We've set up camp in the middle of the Capital Wasteland. With each safe spot I found during the day, she had to loudly proclaim how amazing it was. I chose instead a small, open area, with nothing special about it. Against all odds, I even killed us a Molerat and made a fire. Jackie won't touch the dead thing but hell, more for me.

"What's the point? It's so loud and big out here anyways."

"Actually it's quite peaceful. If you _let_ it."

I hiss, chewing on a piece of cooked Molerat meat. Jackie sighs and finally sits down. As she digs around in her pockets for a cigarette, I listen. There is someone definitely following us, and whoever they are, they're close. For good measure, I cock my gun at the same time the fire cracks. Talk about luck on my end. Once I figure out just where they are…

"So Dez, any idea on how long it'll take us to reach where we're going?"

Glaring at Jackie, I begin to regret letting her come with me. If I had known she'd be this obnoxious, I would have taken off without so much as a goodbye slap in the face.

"This time tomorrow, maybe sooner. Can you be quiet? I'm trying to relax."

"All work and no play."

Sighing, I toss away the bones that were in the meat, and run my tongue over my teeth. Easy now, girl.

"We've been playing all day. I came here to do business. Now, if you'll please _shut up_ I can start to relax. We have a big day tomorrow."

"We have all the time in the world. Relax, Dez."

"I'm _trying_."

I glare at her from the other side of the fire. A slight noise to my left causes my fingers to twitch for my gun. Slowly, out of sight from the source of the noise, I move my right hand to it. Jackie for now, has occupied herself with stargazing. When the moon first showed itself to us, she was in the same awe as she's in now. The Pitt, like I said, doesn't have moon or stars. Just smoke and smog.

Acting as if I'm stretching, I stand up, yawning loudly. Another slight, almost deaf noise, comes from behind me. Picking a spot so open was stupid, but I'd rather have an entire circle of directions to run in, than one lone entrance or exit. Especially, with Jackie around. I need to save my own ass, and not concentrate on hers.

"See look, I told you if you'd relax it'd be alright."

Without responding I take action. Taking out my gun, I turn around and aim it into a thick pile of dead bushes and a large pile of rocks.

"You move, and I shoot. Show yourself."

I say, demanding, loud. Proving to both me and the person I'm aiming at, that I'm not bluffing.

"Whoa, whoa, Dezbe, it's just rocks."

"Shut _up_ Jackie!"

Keeping one finger on the trigger, I power on my Pip-Boy light. The bushes shake as the noise of someone moving drawls out in my ears. I watch closely, the shimmer of Power Armor gleaming off of the three light sources I have.

"A soldier."

I hiss, rushing forward. Pressing the barrel of my gun to their head, I climb over the rock that blocks me and let the bush branches snap against my pants. The soldier looks at me, hands raised, through their helmet. An assault rifle is clipped to their back, their hands are empty.

"Stand up."

I say, backing off just a bit to give them room, but keeping my gun perfectly aimed. Jackie soon joins the commotion, and flips out.

"Oh shit! Oh! He's wearing the same thing as Ashur did!"

Quickly I throw Jackie a glare. This time, the first time, she gets it and shuts her mouth. Turning my attention back to the now-standing soldier, I start the interrogation.

"How long have you been following me?"

No answer. He looks, I think it's a he, at me though the eyeholes of the helmet.

"Answer me!"

I yell, but again, nothing. Instead the soldier shakes his head, putting his hands down. There's no knives clipped to his waist. I want to shoot him, and am about to squeeze the trigger, when I think of something. A Brotherhood soldier, captive, held captive by me. This…this could prove quite beneficial.

"Your radio, dismantle it."

I say, and the soldier shoves his hand inside of his helmet. There's a loud crunching noise, and his hand returns with the crumpled machinery of the radio that allows him to communicate with every other Brotherhood worker. Jackie looks at me like I just kissed a Trog.

"Dez, what are you doing?"

She asks, and I keep my gun aimed.

"This is good. We can use him. If the Brotherhood spots us, he can act like he's taking us to their base. If they ambush us, we can kill him as a distraction."

"You'll…you'll really kill him that easily?"

"Yes."

"But you don't know his name."

"His name doesn't matter!"

I shout, nearly tossing my gun at her as I wave my arms in anger. She doesn't understand, I tell myself. She doesn't know, or get it. She has to though, and will soon. Jackie looks at me, scared, she's never seen me quite this upset, this frazzled. Returning my gun to aim at the soldier, I turn my attention back to him.

"I'll can kill you right fucking now."

I warn the soldier, and he nods in understanding. I want to squeeze the trigger. I want to blow off his helmet, and splatter his blood clear across the Wasteland. They took Charon from me. They took my mother, my father, my free will, my right to live as a normal being. Everything, the Brotherhood of Steel took from my hands. It was easy for them, easy like snatching candy from a mutated baby. They didn't think twice about it. So why should I? Why when I have one of their own, should I think twice about killing him? I'll tell you why. Because I'm smarter than they are. I plan on using, and manipulating this person to get inside their base. To get what I want. I'll take down every last fucker who signs up for them, and this guy is going to help me do it.

"Go near the fire."

I demand, keeping my gun on him. Moving, Jackie, the soldier and myself go to the warmth and light of the flame.

"Sit."

I tell him, and he does. His back is to me, and I hit the backside of his helmet with the barrel of my gun to show him I'm still armed. I'm not letting him think, that he can get away with anything. Wrapping my fingers around the gun on his back, I yank it, the strap snapping off at its clip.

"Take this."

I tell Jackie, handing the gun to her. Nervous, she takes it, and sits back down. I eye up the soldier, before taking a seat close to him, and keeping my gun and knife on the right hand side of me. He stays on my left. He'll die, before I let him try and kill me with my own weapon.

"So…so what's your name?"

Jackie asks, and I fish for a cigarette in my pocket.

"His name isn't important, Jackie. Don't ask him any questions, it'll be easier on you to watch him die that way."

Her big eyes get bigger, and she licks her lips.

"Dez…Dez you're really going to kill him?"

"When I'm done with him, yes."

"Why?"

She doesn't know, and I don't care to answer. Instead I let her think that I have no good reason, as my eyes drift over to the plaque that bears Charon's name. It's all that's left of him now.

"My name is Unn."

The soldier's voice crackles through the speaker of his helmet. My eyes lift over to Jackie, and she looks at the soldier in a mysterious wonder. I, on the other hand, am quite pissed.

"Unn? _Unn_? What the _fuck_ kind of name is 'Unn' and who the _fuck_ gave you permission to speak?"

I want to hit him. I want to beat him senseless, but I know that metal power armor will only break my fingers. So instead I dig my nails into the dirt, as I hold my lit cigarette between my teeth, and keep my gun clutched in my other hand. The soldier turns to look at me, the fire reflecting off of his armor.

"It's my name, just as yours is 'Dezbe'. What kind of name is that, anyways?"

Jackie laughs as my anger rises. Actually, it's a stifled giggle, but it means all the same to me.

"It's better than 'Unn' I can tell you that much. How long have you been following me?"

"Since you returned."

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. I can't tell for sure, but I think he's glaring straight back.

"And does the Brotherhood know I've returned?"

"They think you're dead."

"And you? You're their little fucking spy, aren't you, Unn? Sounds like a noise you make while faking it. Unnn…"

I drawl out the 'n' sound to annoy him. Flicking ash from the tip of my cigarette, I begin to relax. Sure I won't be sleeping very well, what with Unn here as my prisoner, but I can relax. My guard won't be down at all, though.

"No, I'm not their spy."

"Why follow me, then?"

"To help you."

"Help me? You want to _help_ me? You _do_ know that since you dawn that armor you're my mortal enemy, right? What makes you think I'm going to let you help me?"

"Because you need me, Dezbe, or else they're going to kill you."

I raise my eyebrow. How does he know?  
"Tell me, Unn, did you have a nice little chat with your friend Bigsley before you ran away from sucking the tit of the Brotherhood? You seem to know a lot about my hidden agendas."

"It's not hard to figure it out. There's someone missing from this party, isn't there?"

"Shut up."

"Someone that the Brotherhood Outcasts took very good care of, right?"

"One more fucking word and I'll blast you to hell!"

My gun is between his eyes on his helmet before he can blink. I hold it fast with two hands, my elbows locked in position. My cigarette burns out on the ground near the fire, as the meat from the dead Molerat collects dust from the wind. There's silence, an eerie, quiet silence, that even Jackie can't break. Unn's breath crackles through the speaker, hissing and static. Sweat pools on the palms of my hands, as I hold the gun tightly. I want to kill him, but I need him alive.

"You need me, Dezbe, admit it."

He says only after I let the gun fall from his helmet. Sideways, I glare at him, picking up an relighting my cigarette.

"And I'll kill you when I don't."

"You're as vicious as they say you are."

"No, I'm fucking worse."

Without thinking I stand up and hit him as hard as I can with the handle of my sawed-off. It leaves a nice dent in his helmet, and his head rattles around inside. I smirk at him, rage and anger building up behind my eyes.

"Don't speak unless spoken to."

"Did you give orders like that to your ghoul-friend there, too?"

I go to strike him again, but he raises his hands for protection. I stop, before the gun hits him. No, no I won't play this game. For all I know he's a sick fuck, who stole some power armor from a Brotherhood I killed forever ago. There's a lot of sickos out here, I should know, I'm becoming one of them.

Sitting back down, I fold my arms and let my gun fall to the right side of me. Unn fixes himself, still sitting to my left, and Jackie stares agape at the display of violence that unfolded in front of her.

"Dezbe, why are you so mean?"

"Shut _up_, Jackie."

I spit, angry and wanting to simply sit and stare into the fire. I don't think either one of these two idiots truly understand. The Brotherhood, I don't think they will ever understand. It's not something I feel like explaining in full, and it's also not something I feel needs an explanation. I lost someone close to me, Jackie knows, and I have anger towards this man in the shiny armor. Can she make the connection? And this Unn fellow, ha! I look at him through the corners of my eyes, angry and not at all too pleased with the arrival of his presence. But at least there's an advantage, a use for him. He let himself be so easily found, too. So easily unarmed and taken in. It's kind of strange. Wouldn't he want to not get caught?

This raises a lot of questions in my mind, and quietly I think of them. I think of all the possible reasons, outcomes, solutions if any, and ways that this soldier could have come here. Wanted to come here. Found me, followed me, and everything in between. By the time I'm able to blink and return to reality, I see past the dying, smoldering branches. Jackie sleeps, curled into a ball on the hard dirt ground, her mouth open as the gun is cradled into her stomach. Turning my head, I notice Unn sleeping, too. He's using his hands as pillows, and the steady noise escaping from his helmet tells me he's been out for a while. Maybe that knock on the head, did him some good.

Standing up, I scoop my gun in my hand and clip it to my hip. I want to take advantage of this, this night here and the silence. Tomorrow when the sun rises, there won't be any quiet. There won't be much but the burning sun and the rocks and dirt that pave the roads ahead of me. By the light of the moon, I can see ruins that survived the rain and snow, homes and overpasses, and against the horizon, the ruins of Washington D.C. The monument, ever-present no matter how far you are, is lit up bright and proud. It was the first thing I really saw when I came from the vault, the first thing I looked for when I climbed the roof of the Citadel, the thing that greeted me when I returned from New Vegas. And now, it greets me once more as I stand in my first night in the Capital Wasteland, as a shaven-headed Dezbe, with a vengeance and a thirst for blood.

This attitude and mindset isn't permanent, I know. It's something that's here for a fleeting moment. A moment, that can only be ended by the swift end of my sawed-off blasting away. I'm not sure who I want to hurt, exactly. It doesn't matter who, really. In the end, I just want to hurt the Brotherhood as much as they've hurt me. I want to make them feel the pain, that I'm going to be forced to carry with me until my last and final breath. Even if I do move onward, get out of the Capital Wasteland and travel as far North as I want, it'll always hurt. The memories, the laughter, and even the tears of the past, will make a sting on the inside of me. A sting that can't ever really go away, that was caused by foolish and misguided people. One might say my anger is misplaced, but I can't see anyone else to blame.

Lifting my eyes to the sky, I lick my lips and pucker them. Loose ends, is all I'm really worried about. I have to tell Gob things, have to tell him that it's all going to be okay. I have to make sure he's not left wondering about my survival, about my well-being. It'll be hard, though, to tell him soon that he'll be laying flowers on my unmarked grave. It's suicide, going and sniffing out an army. I'm one girl, and even though I've escaped dire situations, I know my luck won't last forever. And in the end, who wants to live in a place where there's no home? Gazing up at the shining stars above me, I wonder if they understand. If they wept, when they saw Charon fall as hard as a mountain. I know they're always watching me, even in the daytime.

"Bombs away…"

I say as I close my eyes, and imagine. I imagine the sight of this place, standing tall and brave in its heyday. I picture everyone walking the busy streets, wearing pre-war, listing to music, and smiling. Not knowing, that their end is coming, that their end will take them. In my mind, I see the bombs engulfing the city, the world, in a dark shadow. People who got word of the West Coast run to their vaults, there's still time. I keep my eyes shut tight, and try to see if in the hurried and scared crowd, I can see Charon. If I can see him, loyally following his employer, into the vault that I once called home. But I can't. I can't, and it's okay.

Opening my eyes, I see wisps of clouds floating past. The full moon watches me, close and cold. Flexing my hands, I feel my fingers rubbing against my palm. I think of beautiful notes, and matching melodies. When I go and see Charon, in that great big vault in the sky, I wonder if together we'll play the piano, and make beautiful music. Or if we'll spend all day, sitting on a cloud, having sex and arguing over what comes next. There won't be a white light for me. There won't be much of anything, just Charon's hand clasped with mine. I could die alright, if I knew that's what was waiting for me. There won't be anyone beside me, though, when time comes for my soul to take on a trail and embark on it's final journey. A part of me, began to believe in the impossible. After all I've done and seen, there's no room to say 'impossible'. Everything has a chance of happening. But even with that logic, I know that the chance of heaven or hell saying 'no way' to Charon and sending him back to me, are slim.

Tears form in my eyes, but I give myself a shake.

"No crying, now…"

I say to myself, looking up and wondering if Charon's one of those twinkling stars above. Soon, Charon and I will hold each other again soon. It's not like I'm planning my own death, but I am. Just, not by my hand. Deep inside, I'm sure this entire thing is going to kill me. After all, a single girl against an army, with no Fat Boy or Charon to back her up, holds little chance. But it's okay. It'll be worth it. I'll have killed a good number of soldiers by then, and then when they do catch me and end my life, they'll be a lot weaker. They'll know, and they'll know good, that they shouldn't have ever fucked with me.

"You really shouldn't leave an untrained person in charge of watching a gun."

Unn's voice scares me, and I grab my gun. Turning around, I aim it, expecting his to already be aimed. To my shock, there's nothing in his hands or on his back. He simply stands there, looking at me with that stupid armor on. For a minute, I hold my gun to him. Just to prove a point, before I holster it.

"You should have taken it, then."

I snap, challenging him. Unn stands beside me, a good few feet away, and we make sure to keep a quiet eye on one another.

"I'm not here to kill you, Dezbe."

"It's Dez, Unn."

"Either way. I'm here to help you."

I sarcastically laugh as I kick away a small rock with my foot. A breeze picks up, I shiver.

"You're not here to help me, Unn. Stop trying to fuck with me. You're a spy who got himself caught and now you're playing my side so I won't kill you. I'm telling you, Unn, I'm going to kill you."

"And I don't not believe you, _Dez_. I just felt you should get some help."

"Shocker you didn't feel that a few weeks ago, huh?"

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I make sure to loop my thumb around the clip of my knife sheath. If he tries anything, I'm going for the weak point on his neck.

"…I'm sorry, Dez. I know that ghoul meant a lot to you."

"Yeah."

"We don't have to like one another, we just have to work together."

"Why? Why the hell do you want to help me? I mean, give me a reason, Unn, and maybe in due time I'll believe it. But I doubt it."

"Because you need a break. Because I'm sick of the lies the Brotherhood tells."

"And you know the truth?"

"Dez…I'm not here because I _chose_ to be, I'm here because I was told to be."

"And who told you?"

"Bigsley."

Blinking, I stare at the Knight.

"Bigsley? Wait, wait, what? Back up, start over, what's up?"

"Bigsley told me a story, the truth about the time spent with you. Changed his head around and he feels he has the truth. We're supposed to listen to the Paladins and Protectors. But…the Scribes are the real brains. I respect Bigsley, and if Bigsley says you need my help, then I'll obey. It's my job."

Well I'll be slapped silly and swim around naked. Bigsley is playing for the right team, finally. The realization that someone on the inside, is actually looking out for lil' ol' me, is actually pretty enlightening. A bit of hope shines down on my pitiful existence now, doesn't it?

"So Bigsley sends me an inexperienced Knight now, huh?"

"Actually I'm an Initiate."

"Even better."

I don't believe him all the way, just part. Never heard of a Knight, or Initiate, taking orders from a Scribe. Even during my time spent at the Citadel, I never knew that Scribes had any power. It was never really given, I guess, or shown. Walking away from Unn, I find a rock and sit down on it, staring up at the stars. If he's being truthful, then I have no reason not to trust him. I still won't give him his gun, but maybe I won't be so quick to knock him with my gun.  
"Bigsley told me something."

Unn says as he walks over to the rock I'm sitting on. Man, I really am a horrible hostage-keeper. I wander away from them and leave sleeping people guarding their weapons. Hey, least I try.

"And what did Bigsley tell you?"

"He told me that before the Citadel blew up, you lived there. But it wasn't like…good? You were brainwashed, right?"

"No I was amnesic. I got shot in the head and lost my frontal lobe memory something-or-other. I remember it all now, though. The Citadel is where it happened, and where they kept me to use and abuse me."

"The Brotherhood don't sound nice. From what Bigsley said, you aren't the monster they've made you out to be."

"No…I'm not."

Bigsley. That sonofabitch. When I find him, I'm giving him a swift kick in the ass and a giant handshake. He's putting his life on the line, by trying to help me.

"Did Bigsley tell anyone else about me?"

Unn shakes his head, his shoulders slumping.

"No, actually. Just me. Said they'd kill him, or call him crazy."

"Sounds about right."

"Aren't you scared, of going in there? Bigsley said you were going to find the hideout, and invade it. You're just one girl."

"It doesn't matter to me, Unn. I just want to hurt them, I don't care how big or small it is. If I can make a few Knights and Paladins hurt, then it's all fine with me."

"You must have really loved him then, like Bigsley said."

"Bigsley is sayin' a lot now, isn't he?"

Unn nods, folding his arms over his chest. I jump down from the rock, and look up at him. He's a lot taller than me.

"Bigsley felt I'd be more apt to help you if I knew a bit about you and the ghoul."

"And were you?"

"Yeah. Hearing how he described you two, really made me want to listen to him. Made me…want to remember why I joined this brigade."

"Why'd you join?"

"To help people. To give people a fighting chance, so they can do what you and the ghoul did. Fall in love and fuck."

I half-smirk creeps at the corners of my mouth, when I hear Unn say 'fall in love and fuck'. It's kind of true, it is true, in a comically blunt way. Maybe this Initiate isn't all that bad. After all, he knows Bigsley, listened to Bigsley, and knew things he would have had to been there to see. If Bigsley didn't tell him, that is. He's not bullshitting. At least, not yet.

"So…you joined the Brotherhood of Steel to help humanity. How noble."

My sentence oozes and drips with sarcasm as I curl my legs under me on the rock. Staring up at the moon, I blink away tears forming from bittersweet memories.

"You like stargazing, don't you?"

"It's not like there's anything better to do."

"Do you know what they mean?"

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair.

"Stars don't have meanings. Just stories. They make pictures, if you look hard enough."

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"…Someone told me that a long time ago."

"Long as in fairly recently?"

I look at the Initiate, my eyes narrowing. He shrugs, letting his arms fall to his waist.

"I read up on the ghoul's profile before I came out here. He lived a long life. Long enough to gain some worldly knowledge."

"He has a name, you know."

"Charon, right? His name was Charon."

Was. Past tense. Past tense means in the past, meaning not present. Meaning, dead. A heavy weight pumps with my heart.

"Yeah. Charon."

The Initiate doesn't say anything for a while, and the wind rings in my ears. It's a warm breeze, on a cool night. I wonder if maybe, it'll ever rain here again. I don't like the snow, it's too cold, but a nice rain would be good. I'd like to stand in it, and close my eyes.

"How'd a girl like you fall for a ghoul, anyways?"

"Girl like me?"

I ask him, dangerous. He may be here per order of Bigsley, but it doesn't mean I trust him yet. It doesn't mean he's still not fogged by the image the Brotherhood gave him of me.

"You're not unattractive. You know how to survive. Figure you'd look for a catch, rather than a ghoul."

"That's none of your business. And if you must know, I'm not a girl anymore. I'm almost twenty-six."

The Initiate shrugs and turns his back to me. He waves his hand behind his head as he heads back to the campfire. The campfire that's now dead, nothing more than smoldering ash.

"Whatever you say, Dezbe."

I don't try to call after him. I don't want to. There's so much more to me, than what he knows. Than what anyone else knows. If people would look closer, they wouldn't see the horrible person they've thought me to be. If they'd listen, they'd realize that I'm just Dezbe. I'm trying to get by, like everyone else out here. Only for me, it's much harder. Harder, because everyone makes it. I wonder how I look, to the eyes of a stranger. Do they look at me, and instantly cower away? Or do they laugh as I walk past them, calling me names like the people of Megaton once did so long ago. I'll never know, I suppose.

Looking back up at the night sky, I wonder if maybe there's hope. I hoped, for so long, for so many things. I was so stupid and foolish back then, but with that stupid foolishness, came comfort, and ignorance. If I could go back, there'd be so many things I'd change. So many, all at once, to make it all better. But when night becomes day, there's nothing left to say. And when there's nothing left to say, something is wrong.

I close my eyes, letting the wind run through my short-cropped almost bald head. With my eyes closed, I leave reality. I arrive to a place, as the hands of time tick by, that's warm and safe. Moving my lips in a faint whisper, I ask if Charon can hear me. I ask if he's listening, ask if he's watching over me. When I get the chance to be alone, after I rid myself of Jackie and Unn, I'll be able to mourn him once again. Be able, to fully allow myself to soak up being in the Capital Wasteland, without him. I'm so lost, so lost within myself, I'm hardly here. The wind whips around my body, under my arms, and I open my eyes to view the barren desert in front of me.

Lifting my hand, I touch my cheek. I don't know where the Brotherhood base is. The Citadel is gone, so maybe they set up camp at Rivet City. If Unn talked to Bigsley, then he's only ever been to the Jefferson Memorial. I could start there, I suppose. Go there and fuck everything up until I get my answers. But I know I can't. I can't blow my cover like that. Even if maybe, my cover is already blown. I have to give myself the benefit of the doubt here.

Getting up off the rock, I turn to head back to camp. Glancing down at my hands, I wonder if Charon's fingers, will ever fill the spaces between mine again. I wanted to save him. Save, and risk everything, even if it killed me. To hear him tell me it's okay again, to have him whisper in my ear in his gruff and guttural voice, is all I really want. I'd go away, if I could have that. If I could have him beside me again, standing up next to me, ready to fight at the drop of a cap. He's my guardian angel, you know. Looking back up at the stars, I see one fly across the night sky. Stopping, I make a wish.

I wish he'd come back. Wish, that like in the pre-war movies, he'd rise from the dead and reclaim his place next to me. It's where he was at his best. It's where he fit, and where I always felt I belonged. The sun, moon and stars, can never shine as brightly as I did when he was by me. I wish he'd be with me again. Be with me, to finish it all, to keep moving forward, to push onwards as if he had never left. I wish, just once, I could hear his voice again. That'd be enough for me. Just that.


	22. I Got Lost Along the Way

Waking up on the hard ground, I wipe the sleep from my eyes. Unn and Jackie are still sleeping peacefully, as the warm sun rises over the horizon. It's big, orange spherical shape rises over the Capital Wasteland, giving life and light to all the things the night killed. My body shudders, as the rays reach out and touch my bare skin. A part of me wants to gather my small pack, and head on out alone. Go to Underworld, and place the plaque where it needs to be, and then begin my search for the Brotherhood base. Alone, I could go see Gob. Go see him and Zack, and cry until my voice is hoarse and my eyes are so wet that they swell shut. With Gob, I could finally let things out, that I'm too scared to let out alone. I can't see him, with an Initiate following me. Putting Gob in danger, it's not on my to-do list. Until this Initiate proves he's loyal to me, and not a double-agent, I don't want to risk anything.

Standing up, I grab the pack that has my plaque in it. Fixing it comfortably on my back, I check my gun. Loaded and ready. My knife, sheathed and prepared. Glancing down I notice Jackie's arm fluttering in her sleep. She looks peaceful. What was I thinking, when I told her she could come? I guess I wasn't. I guess, deep down, I am scared of doing this alone. Dying with no one to fight for me, or no one to see who I am, doesn't sit right. If I die here, I want people who know me, to spread my story. At least, if Jackie's with me when that happens, she'll be able to at least defend my name. My name and honor, if I have any left.

"Hey, wake up."

I say loudly, looking at the dirt between my fingernails. Jackie moans in disobedience. If there was an attacker, she would be dead.

"Come on, we have to go."

"It's too _early_!"

She argues, rolling over as if she's sleeping on the most comfortable bed in the world. Looking at the Initiate, I notice he's sitting up, and staring at me.

"Ready to move."

He talks to me like I'm his captain. His Paladin or Protector. I raise an eyebrow, but say nothing. Jackie I figure, will catch up when she pleases. Lifting my feet, I lead Unn away from the campsite. In my head, I countdown.

"Hey!"

Jackie's voice echoes throughout the waking Wasteland. I hear her running after us, as we walk further and further away.

"You were just going to leave me there?"

"You have to learn to wake up and move when I say. Not barking orders but if you want to live, you can't doze in the open like that."

"Yeah well, I didn't pick to sleep in the open."

"I'd rather have a lot of escape routes open to me, if there was an attack."

"Whatever."

I can tell she's still not awake. Her eyes have bags under them, and she's wiping the sleep from her eyes. I hear her yawn, as I keep my eyes set dead ahead.

"Where are we heading? Still seeing your friend in Megaton?"

Jackie yawns, stretching her arms out into my peripheral vision. I shake my head, my legs supporting my tired weight.

"No. We're going to the Museum of History."

"Why?"

"I have something to do there."

She doesn't ask, which is good. I like when people accept plans and keep moving. It makes my life easier. Makes everything go smooth and better. The plaque on my back digs into my shirt, and I reach around to adjust it. Unn's armor clanks as he walks, giving a steady rhythm to our paces.

"Unn, do you know where the Brotherhood set up base?"

I ask him as we maneuver down a hill. Unn looks around, for enemies I assume, and then sighs deeply.

"No, I was sent here from the West Coast straight to the Jefferson Memorial."

"I figured."

"Ashur was in the Brotherhood…"

Jackie states, as if I didn't know that already. Coming to the base of the hill, I can see the river far off in the distance. When we get to it, I'm going to have one refreshing swim. My mouth is a bit dry, but it's nothing that fresh water won't fix. I wish it was still irradiated, though. Maybe then if it was, Charon and I would have had a lot easier time surviving out here. There's a lot of 'maybe' moments in my mind. It doesn't do good to dwell on them. I can't change the past. No matter how bad I want to.

"You shouldn't be so hasty Dez. There might be enemies."

Unn says, keeping his balance and looking around. I shrug, letting my feet kick up dirt and rocks as we go down.

"It doesn't matter. Raiders, probably. Everything else is fair game."

"Deathclaws."

"Haven't seen one in a while. Figure they might have finally died out."

Unn sighs through his helmet. Even his breath is cracked and static. Reaching the bottom, I continue on ahead of everyone by a few paces. I'm just use to being with Charon, not two people. Not followers, like I'm in some sort of gang. I'm my own gang, really. Nothing too important, nothing too extreme. Just me. Only me.

"Is the water up ahead good to drink?"

Jackie asks, even though we're still a ways off from the river.

"Yeah, yeah it's fine."

I mutter back to her, jamming my hands in my pockets. If I got shot right now, I wonder if I'd care. I'm not sure, really. As much as I want to seek vengeance on the Brotherhood, I can put that aside, if I can see Charon a bit sooner.

"You seem bothered."

Unn says as he catches up to me. Jackie is still behind, lingering and daydreaming. I don't care if she gets shot at this point. Looking up at Unn, I shrug, not really in the mood to vocalize anything.

"Just quiet."

"Why?"

I'm not even annoyed by his prying. Just numb is all. Numb and tired.

"Lots of things on my mind is all. Lots and lots of things."

"Cap for your thoughts?"

"Since when did you become so interested?"

"Might as well make conversation while we're out here. You know, get to know one another."

I stop walking and look up at Unn. He stops, too, and looks down at me. My eyes squint from the sun, but my tone is deadly serious.

"The less we know about one another, the better. I won't hesitate to kill you, and I don't want anything getting in the way of that. If you want conversation, have it with Jackie. I'm keeping my head straight on this one."

"Oh, scared about losing another friend?"

Instead of fighting, I just start walking. Behind me I can hear Unn's mocking voice.

"You're living up to the Lone Wanderer, Dezbe. You sure it's what you want?"

"Fuck off."

Lone Wanderer. That bitch from Vault 101. Dezbe, vigilante of the Capital Wasteland. I've heard it all. I've lived up to them all. It makes no difference to me anymore, if I'm alone, or not. Either way, by the end of this, I'm probably going to be alone. I can't help it, so I won't fight it. Unn doesn't say anything back, he just shrugs and falls back to walk with Jackie. Good. I need time to think, time to collect thoughts that I hope are really my own.


	23. We Forgot Where We Were

(Jackie)

I don't understand her. I don't know what's going on, or who anyone is. All I do know, is she won't tell me. Even though the sun is burning my skin, asking to stop and find shade isn't going to happen. She wasn't this mean, back in The Pitt. Then again, the sun wasn't as harsh in The Pitt as it is here, either. Maybe this place changes people. Has some kind of power or pull that makes everything nice, mean again. Her and Unn seem to be getting along, though. Even if she keeps saying she'll kill him, I don't believe that.

After Unn is done having a bit of an argument with Dez, he stalks back to me. You know, I really don't care for Dez's whole drama. I'm in a new place. I want to enjoy the sights. I am curious, I just don't know.

"What's up her ass today?"

I ask Unn. It's weird, looking at him in his armor. He's not Ashur, but he looks like Ashur. It's really uncomfortable.

"Lots of things."

Everyone is so vague. Dez won't tell me what's going on, where we're headed, or anything really. I think Unn might have some guess as to what's up, but I can't be sure. Something to my right moves, and I look. It's a really, really big fly, and I curl my nose at it.

"I guess no one wants to tell me what's going on, huh?"

Unn has a strange shift to him. I can't see his face through his helmet, and wouldn't know him if he ran off and came back without it on, but I think he's sad for Dez. I think, beneath that helmet of his, he's giving her a sad, sad look.

"She's on a personal mission."

"For what? Where are we going?"

"Someone very close to Dez was taken away. The people responsible for it, are here in the Capital Wasteland. She's going to them."

"What happens when she gets there?"

"She'll kill them."

Unn can't be serious. He says it so nonchalantly, so casual, that I have a hard time absorbing it. I stare at him as we walk, then look over at Dezbe walking ahead of us. The concept of killing isn't foreign to me, but knowing the girl I've come to consider my friend has a bloodlust doesn't make me feel well. If I make her mad, will she turn on me? Will she attack me when I least expect it?

"She'll really kill them?"

I ask, staring at her backside as we walk. I hope she can't hear us.

"They killed the one person she cared about. I don't think she's going to make tea and crumpets with them anytime soon."

"Charon."

"What?"

"Charon. Was it Charon they killed?"

"Yes, it was. She watched the whole thing happen."

"Wow…wait…how do you know that?"

Unn doesn't say anything. The back of my neck burns from the sun. My pale skin isn't use to this kind of light. After we were liberated in The Pitt, and the cure for Trog came out, lots of us got clean. Our skin cleared up, and the sulfur and ash fell away. Most of us found out that we were pale, ghastly pale, milk pale. I should have thought of that before coming to this place.

"Were Charon and Dez together a while?"

"Years."

"Wow…how'd they meet?"

"Charon worked as a bouncer in Underworld. Dez hired him for help. That's it."

"Underworld?"

"A ghoul city."

Stopping dead in my tracks, I stare at Unn with shock on my face.

"He was a ghoul?"

Luckily, Dez doesn't hear my loud voice. She walks onward without so much as a backwards look.

"Yes, why?"

Dez never answered my question when I asked her if she had ever slept with a ghoul. But, if he was a ghoul, when who was the handsome person in the picture she has on her computer?

"No, wait. I saw a picture of Charon. He was human."

"Probably before he was stuck in radiation."

"How do you know so much?"

Unn shrugs and looks around. He stares at Dez's backside, and I wonder what the real reason behind his arrival is.

"I've read her file. Research. Word of mouth."

"oh."

We we're on a revenge trip. Going to hunt down those who hurt Dez. I don't see the point. As a slave, lots of my loved ones died. A day didn't pass, where someone, everyone, stayed alive. Why then, does she feel so inclined to kill over one person? Everyone has lost a loved one, why dwell? Isn't this the way of life out here?

"Why does she care so much?"

It's a bold question to ask. I can only hope Dez doesn't overhear.

"What?"

"Well, I mean, everyone loses loved ones. I'm not sure about things here, but in The Pitt, it was a daily thing. Why is she so angry, over something so…common?"

Unn thinks about my question. I can't tell if he's simply thinking, or really offended.

"Because Dez had no one else. They've taken much more from her in the past. This is the straw that broke the Yao Gui's back."

Maybe, then, this is Dez's Ashur. I know I shouldn't judge, but I can't help it. I know that I didn't know Dezbe, but I never imagined her to be so disturbed and complex. Her past is still a mystery to me, there's lots I don't know, but maybe it's better that way. She said out here, it's kill or be killed, but I haven't seen anything bad. No evil Raiders, no wild animals wanting to maul my face off, nothing. Maybe her reality is construed. If there really is no deep threats, then what's stopping me from going on my own? I don't know this place, but I'm sure I can find a town somewhere. Going on a mission that I have no real ties to, with someone seemingly insane, doesn't sit well. In fact, I could turn around now. I could go my own way and I bet Dez wouldn't even notice. When and if she does notice, I don't think she'd care.

"Hey, Unn."

Whispering, I grab his arm and make him stand still. Dezbe keeps walking, her pace rhythmic and steady.

"What?"

"Listen, look, why are we doing this?"

"What?"

"We're not tied to her crazy revenge mission. Look, we have nothing to do with it. Let's take off and go on our own mission."

"And leave Dez alone?"

"Why not? She's fucking crazy. We're not even part of this. It's all her. Her lover, her revenge, and I bet her death. I'm not trying to die, you know."

"She's not part of The Pitt, but she put her life on the line to liberate it."

"Why are you defending her? She wasn't fucking batshit insane when The Pitt was liberated, she is now. Come on, let's go."

Unn pulls his arm from my hands. Looking ahead, he watches Dez walk, one slow steady step at a time.

"It's my duty."

Duty? It's his duty? What is he, some hired contracted bodyguard? Before I can ask him, Unn begin to walk away, loyally following Dez like a sick dog. Since I don't know the area very well, and really have never fired a gun before, I was hoping to have Unn come with me. At least then, if anything happened, I'd have some form of fighting chance rather than being bait. The last thing I was, is to be alone out here. After all, I hardly know this place.

"Hey, wait!"

I cry after Unn, chasing him. He keeps walking, ignoring my call, steadily following Dez. When I catch up to him, the air is thick and heavy. I raise my eyebrow, wondering what it was I did to cause the tension.

"Unn, what's wrong?"

Dez is still out of earshot. I'm not sure if she's doing it on purpose or not.

"If you want to leave, that's your decision. I'm seeing this thing through till the end. But if you do leave, think carefully about your freedom."

"What? Why?"

"Because Dezbe fought for it, and she knew none of you."

"Are you trying to guilt me?"

"Just stating facts."

"Look, you may know _about_ Dezbe, but you don't _know_ her. She's _insane_."

"And I'm sure you know her, then?"

"Well, not entirely, but being around a crazy person in a strange land isn't that safe."

"Go home then, if you want safety."

"Take me there."

Unn howls with laughter. It's so loud through the crackling of his voice speaker, that Dez turns around and looks at us. She has a raised, strange look, but doesn't ask anything. All she does is turn back around, and continues on walking. Unn shakes his head at me, wiping fake tears from the outside of his helmet. I glare at him, following his pace.

"I'm not your babysitter. Go on yourself."

I'm about to argue, about to fight and make him take me back to wherever the train to The Pitt is, when Dezbe's voice rings out, shattering whatever eardrums I may have had.

"_Raul_!"

Unn and I look up ahead. Dez is running wildly, and we have to follow. She's faster than I thought, and her feet move swiftly over the shifting desert-like dirt. Plus, Unn's outrunning me, too. He has a million pounds of armor on, how the heck is he able to do that? Shaking my head, I struggle to keep up. When I finally do, I bump right into Unn's armor, and fall the to the ground. My face throbs in pain, and angrily, no one turns to help me up. Instead I pick my own self up, and look past Unn, searching for Dez.

I find her with my eyes. She's clinging to someone, to a ghoul. He's wearing this strange apparel, something I'd never really ever seen before. They hold one another, as if they're long lost lovers, friends, soul mates. Dez's face is buried in the crook of the ghoul's neck her hands gripping him tightly. The ghoul almost lifts her into the air, his hands digging into her back. I take the obvious route, and assume they've met before. Looking up at Unn, I notice his stance is stiff, tight, he seems angry. He stares at them, and at the tears that flow from the corners of Dezbe's eyes, as she pulls away from her ghoul-friend.

"What…what are you _doing_ out here?"

Dez asks, overjoyed and happy. Awkwardly, Unn and I stand off to the side as the two reacquaint.

"You left New Vegas. I got word, word that you came out here. It's where you're from, innit? You lived out here before New Vegas?"

"I did but you still didn't answer my question."

"I came to get you. I came to see if you were alright."

"Raul, people don't come clear across the country to see if people are _alright_."

"…I missed you. You made me remember the ways. My old ways, and how fun it was. I wanted to get that back. Wanted to follow you, like I followed you in New Vegas."

I've never seen Dezbe smile so wide. There's a light in her eye, that wasn't there before. Wasn't there when we met next to Haven, wasn't there when we took the train-thing back from The Pitt. It's a new kind of light, the kind I think you get from seeing an old friend. Maybe these two aren't just friends, though. Unn did say Charon and Dez had been together for years, but what about before then? Is this some old, newfound romance that's going to ignite by a chance meeting? Oh, the drama that will come. Maybe I will stick around, after all, who doesn't want to watch this?

"Raul…you should have stayed. It's not safe here."

"Yeah and it ain't much safer back there now is it? I'm two-hundred somethin' years old Dezbe, if I' gonna die, I wanna die fightin'."

"Raul…"

"I didn't come here to hear you lecture me."

"No, I guess not."

Dezbe turns to us, a smile spread across her face.

"Guys, this is Raul. He was my…my friend in New Vegas when I was there. Raul, this is Unn and Jackie."

Raul tips his stupid hat to us, and we wave. Well, I wave, Unn just grunts in his general direction.

"Quite a band of misfits you got followin' you, eh boss?"

Raul tells Dezbe, and she scratches her head.

"They're not exactly _followers_. Unn here is my prisoner. He's from the Brotherhood and even though he spits some game, I don't trust him. Jackie is from The Pitt, she's my somewhat friend."

"Ah I see."

We all shake hands, that is except Unn. He looks at Raul, and I wish I could see what his face looked like beneath that helmet. Instead of outstretching his hand for a polite and friendly gesture, Unn stands with his arms defiantly folded across his chest. I guess Unn doesn't like ghouls.

"Ah well ain't tryin' to make friends."

Raul says, turning his attention back to Dez. He puts a friendly arm over her shoulder, and smiles down. He has a thick accent, and I don't recognize it from anywhere.

"Hey Raul?"

I ask, and he looks over at me. For a minute he doesn't seem to happy that I've taken his attention away from Dezbe, but he gets over it.

"Yeah?"

"You said you were from New Vegas?"

"No, no. I'm from New Mexico. I'll tell you the story sometime. Right now I wanna get reacquainted with Dez here."

I shrug and give him a 'whatever' kind of look. Jesus how popular is Dez? We've run into two ghouls so far, and they've both been really friendly towards her. Maybe she's got some spunk and game that I don't know about. If she's this good with the ghouls, I wonder how good she is with the men.

Raul and Dez walk ahead of Unn and me, trapped in their own little world. Each time they laugh, my hand twitches. It's loud enough to hear a million miles away I swear it. You'd think they'd quiet it down some but nope. Nope, nope, nope.

"She's real friendly with that Raul ghoul, huh?"

I say to Unn, elbowing him. He grunts something, but I don't hear it. I think he's a bit mad. I mean, he's not the only man in the group now, and I'm thinking Raul is here to stay. After all, him and Dezbe seem to be getting along well. _Too_ well if you ask me.

"Think they fucked?"

I blurt out, a smirk on my face as I put my arms behind my head and lean back a bit on my feet while I walk.

"No."

Unn says in reply.

"Well, you seem awfully sure of yourself."

"I am."

"What? Don't think the girl can fuck a ghoul? Did she ever sleep with Charon?"

"I'm not here to discuss Dezbe's sex life. Whatever she does with it is her business."

"Oh really? Then why do I get the feeling that you're pissed off?"

"Because you're pissing me off."

Before I can counteract his insult, Dezbe cries out, stopping her worldly conversation with Raul.

"Hey guys! Hey! We're at the river! We're staying here for the night!"

Night? _Night_? Is it even noon yet? Oh, well, I guess I can't and won't complain. There's a big rock up where Dez and Raul are talking. Big rocks mean big shade, so I take no time in running my little butt over there and sitting it right down in the dirt.

"Ahh…"

I sigh, leaning my head against it while I sit. Raul, Dez and Unn sit around me, and for a minute I feel pretty damned popular. Yay popularity. Yay me. Just when I think someone is going to ask about me, and you know want to _include_ me in something, Raul and Dez start howling with laughter.

"And the wig! The wig!"

Dez laughs as she slaps her knee. You know, I've never really heard her laugh before. Even if Raul's laughing is much louder, and a lot more annoying, she's still really pretty when she laughs. Really, really pretty.

"What wig?"

I ask, confused. Raul waves his hand at me, catching his breath.

"Ah we're jus' talking about when we met. Damned kid nearly got us killed."

"I did _not_! I saved your stupid ass! If it weren't for me, you'd still be fixing Cuddles' car!"

"Fuckin' toy…"

They laugh again, completely ignoring me and my question. Folding my arms, I huff out a sigh and look over at Unn. He's sitting just like me, legs folded in front of him, arms folded in front of his chest. Well, we're just two peas in a lonely pod now, aren't we.

"You seem bright and chipper."

As much as I try, I can't see the point in me staying. I mean, Raul and Unn are here now, what's my use? Moreover, this bitch is crazy. One minute she's sulking all Miss Doom and Gloom and now the next she's laughing like there isn't any tomorrow. It makes me confused. And sick.

"Dezbe, how are we going to reach the Brotherhood if we keep stopping? Have you forgotten one ghoul, because another comes around?"

I'm shocked at Unn's comment. Everyone is, really. Raul looks around, confused, as the laughter stops and Dezbe stares at Unn. The tension in this area can be cut with a dull knife, it's so thick. Unn and Dez stare down at one another, and the light that was there in Dezbe's eyes when Raul came around, is suddenly gone. I wonder where it went to?

"I didn't forget, Unn. I was trying to have a bit of lighthearted fun."

"Oh I'm sorry, I mistook your lightheartedness for forgetfulness. Whoopsie."

"Fuck you Unn. You've been getting on my last nerve since you got here."

"You mean since yesterday?"

"I'll fucking kill you."

"Yeah so you keep saying."

Dezbe grits her teeth. Raul grabs her shoulders with his ghoulified hands, in a pitiful attempt to hold her back. Dezbe tries to lunge at Unn anyways, and pulls Raul with her. In the end, though, Unn doesn't move and Raul is busy wrestling Dezbe back on the ground.

"I spent long enough time with you boss, to know how to get you down."

"Yeah whatever."

Dezbe says back to Raul as he keeps her pinned to the ground. She's not happy, he's not happy, Unn's not happy and I'm too busy looking at the pretty water to really care. I want to go swimming, I think. Standing up, Unn stands with me and I give him one of those 'what are you doing' looks.

"Apparently Dezbe no longer has use of our services. Her newcomer seems perfectly able-bodied to take care of her, and _all_ of her needs."

Oh, wow. Wonder what crawled up his ass and died. Is there an ass-bug I need to be concerned with out here? Seriously, last thing I want is to feel something squirmin' and movin' all up around in there. For good measure, I look at my backside. All clear.

"Where the _fuck_ are you two going?"

Dezbe yells, trying to thrash beneath Raul's weight. I'm about to tell her that I planned on going swimming, but Unn answers for me.

"Away. You don't need our assistance."

Before I can argue, Unn takes a firm hold on my elbow and half-drags me away from them. Down the edge of the river, Unn doesn't let me go. He keeps walking angry, and set on proving some sort of point. I just want to go swimming, and I don't see the big deal. If Dez doesn't need us anymore, that's great. Unn and I can go on our own adventure, and then he can take me back home to The Pitt. After I take a good swim, that is. Either way, it sounds like a plan to me.

"Unn, let go, you're hurting me!"

Pulling at my arm, I try to get Unn to let me go. By the third pull, his fingers unwrap from my elbow, and I fall to the ground. My leg hits a rock, and tears through my pants. I look at it, as blood starts to seep out. Unn's not paying attention, he's busy pacing in anger, waving his hands around and yapping like a goddamned loon.

"Who the _hell_ does he think he is? Coming all this way from New Vegas just to make sure she's _alright_? _Alright_? No one travels across the country because they _miss_ somebody! No one goddamnit!"

He punches the ground in anger, his metal armor clanking and clicking.

"What do you care? He's just some ghoul. Let them go to their deaths together. It's not your concern."

"He's not _just some ghoul_! He's…_Raul_!"

"Yeah, so I've heard. Anyways you got any medicine on you, this cut really stings."

Unn rants on, ignoring my comment.

"I _know_ why he's here that…that…"

"Charon's dead, Dez can fuck who she wants."

Unn looks at me through his helmet for a split second. Then, it's all a rush of movements and angry growls. He hits the rocks, tears up dead plants, and in the end rips off his helmet and sends it sailing into the river. Piece by piece, he angrily tears away at the layers. Muttering to himself, I watch in awe as Unn unfolds in front of me.

"…Going to Bigsley for _help_…doing all that I've done, for _what_? For _what_?"

He stands now, naked only in a white tee shirt and gray army slacks. Even though he's angry I can't help but admire the man standing before me. Admire, in a way where I've never really admired anyone before. My heart begins to beat inside my chest. The light sparkles off of the river, Unn's silhouette standing by is as he lights a needed cigarette in anger, tossing his empty pack to the ground, he puffs away. Plumes of white smoke curl around him. I stand up, and walk towards him, still staring, still dumbfounded.

"All this time and she…she…_what the fuck!_"

"She doesn't need you."

I blurt out, unexpectedly. Where'd that come from? Unn seems pretty involved with Dez, more than what I think he's letting on. Standing beside him, I light a cigarette from my own pack, as he falls silent. I want to look at him, admire his physique, and I do so out of the corner of my eye. Unn is a beautiful representation of a man.

Standing taller than me, and I'm only an inch or so shorter than Dezbe, Unn has thick hair that flows to his shoulders. As if someone forgot to trim his short hair, and it's longer now. It's the same shade as Dezbe's, a bit darker with more brown I'd say. He has a broad chest, his pectorals showing through his white shirt, outlining the physical attributes that women go crazy for. Large shoulders, a slender jaw with five o' clock stubble. He has large hands, and my hand covers a bicep with more to spare. His legs support this strong being, and beneath the baggy pants I'm sure there's strong calves just waiting to come out. Scars litter his entire body, scars showing his toughness and experience. Track marks on his forearms suggest chem experimentation, and I let my fingertips brush his skin. He's warm. Very, very warm.

"Don't touch me."

He growls, pulling his arm away from me. I stare at him, his ice blue eyes matching his sun-tanned skin. You can see a tan-line around his neck, when his shirt tugs at him. His neck is tough, strong, with thick muscles supporting his head. Hair would fall over his eyes just slightly, but a worn, light brown bandanna covers his forehead, against his hairline and resting just above his eyebrows.

"What are those from?"

I point to the needle marks on his arms, and he looks down. His anger hasn't vanished, just subsided.

"A social experiment. Don't touch."

So I don't. I stand in marvel at the man before me, wanting him in a way I never wanted anyone before.

"Unn?"

"What?"

"Dez is fine on her own. She's lived this long, right?"

The corners of his mouth twitch. His biceps flex as he thinks, his brows furrowing. He wants to say something, but holds back.

"…I suppose."

Unn's voice is deep, almost guttural, and smooth. I can imagine his hearty laugh booming around, imagine him crying out 'fight' in the heat of battle, and soft grunts when he has sex. Oh no, I shouldn't think this way.

"Right, so if she's willing to…go off with Raul instead of us, than why should we care?"

"…Hm…"

"I say, we look on the bright side of this."

"What bright side?"

"A new adventure."

"I don't see any adventure. Just a desolate Wasteland succumbing to the efforts of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Come back to The Pitt with me, then."

Unn looks at me, defeated, but still a small, very small, ray of hope in his eyes.

"The Pitt?"

I nod, enthusiastic.

"Right, The Pitt. It's great there. What with the people and the small space. Haven't you spent enough time in this desert? Come back to my home. It's smaller, warmer, and there's a helluva lot more things to do."

I can tell he's reluctant. He doesn't want to go, and I can't figure why. If Dezbe doesn't want him, then shit I'll take him. Not sure what the history of these two is, if there is any history, but I don't really care. That's all it is, right? History. Crossing my arms, I raise my eyebrow and give a slightly seductive smirk.

"So, what you say? Will you lead a damsel in distress back to her homeland?"

Unn rolls his eyes, unsmiling, but nods his head.

"I suppose."

Monotone and unenthusiastic. But I don't care. He said yes. Take _that_ totally insane Dezbe. Go have fun with your ghoul man, I got me a real one. Taking Unn's hand, I pull him into the river with me. The cool, splashing fresh water rejuvenates my body, and I'm all smiles all around.


	24. Supergirls Don't Cry

The wind hits my face, as it blows from across the river. Wet clothes cling to my body, as a warm fire tries pitifully to warm me. Holding myself into a loose ball, I stare off into this distance, away from it all. The concrete that blocks us from the city above, serves as a nightly protection. Over the water, the desolate Wasteland reflects itself in shades and shadows. In the river, stars mimic one another, with a full moon serving as their only company. Aside…from one another.

Craning and stretching my neck, I peer over more, hoping to find something, hoping to see. Hoping, for some reason, for the return of Unn.

"Dezbe?"

Raul gruffs, his thick _acc_ent ringing in my ears as the serious moments of our time spent together in New Vegas pushes at my mind. I don't want to think of them. He knows about Charon. He doesn't know, that Charon is dead. Thinking, remembering, tears want to roll down my face. But I don't let them. I'm strong now, and I've figured it all out. In the end, it's all going to be okay. Nothing really matters, when the end comes.

"Yeah?"

I reply, turning my attention back to him, and my back to the river.

"Dezbe, tell me what's wrong. I came all this way, I didn't want to see you so distracted."

"It's…it's a long story, Raul."

A sideways glance at my pack shows the corner of the plaque I had molded just for Charon. I still have to bring it to Underworld.

"We have all night. C'mon, boss, you know I can listen."

"It's a crazy story."

"I'm old enough to know crazy, Dez. And anything you can toss at me, it ain't crazy."

He already knows about Charon, but I give him a brief reminder anyways. Closing my eyes, I can see all the memories I'm retelling. From my arrival back home, to my entrance at Tenpenny Tower. To meeting Lily and seeing Charon for the first time in five years, then hopping a boat to Point Lookout. I tell him about Desmond, and my loss of hope in that entire situation. I don't let up on the details, the scars hidden behind clothing and shielded by flesh and bone. I tell Raul of the painful goodbye, as I snuck away from Charon in the wee hours of the morning to find a place I wanted to call home. I reminisce, about the desert flowers blooming all around, as Charon and I shared a beautiful, rare, and quiet moment beside the truck on the trip home. I tell him of the Outcasts, of their manipulation, of the Brotherhood and their want, and desire for power. Nothing is sacred or untouchable, as I tell him of Charon's indentured contract falsely drawn up, and come to a silence for a brief moment when the vision of the balcony comes into play. Quietly, Raul listens, as I tell of Charon's vanish into the Capital Wasteland, but ultimate return.

My voice remains steady, telling a wonderful story with small laughs in between, and a few smiles on my end with my eyes closed. But when time comes, to tell him of what happened the night after the snow fell for the first time in the Capital Wasteland, it cracks. My voice, chokes up on itself, getting softer, grittier, then louder and more emotional. I express to him how much pain I felt, during the time of mourning I went through in The Pitt. When the timeline ends at his arrival, my cheeks feel wet with phantom tears. I open my eyes, and look at my friend in the glow of the fire.

"…I don't know what to say."

He tells me, soft, looking away sadly.

"It's crazy, isn't it."

"Love's like that, though."

There's a dead silence now. A dead silence, broken only by the wind hitting our ears, and the glistening ripples in the water. I'm alone now, if not with Raul. He won't stay for this trip, and I won't ask him to. For tonight, I can enjoy the company, though. Enjoy the weight being lifted off of my shoulders, as I tell someone the story for the first time. Tomorrow, I might not have him here. He might choose to go, to travel onwards in search of another person. Another ghoul, a ghoulette, perhaps even.

"You know, Dez, it's sad but you should still feel lucky."

"Lucky?"

I'm taken aback by his bold suggestion. Yet I find myself slightly intrigued. I'm listening.

"Not many people feel what you felt. They don't get the chance, to meet someone and fall so deeply in love, and be lucky enough to have that person feel the same. You should be proud of it, happy, that you were able to feel that way. Even if it did end tragically, it's not over. You still got the memories."

"I never thought of it that way."

"See, look at that. You're already making headway."

I shrug, giving him a half-smirk. Raul smiles at me, and puts his hand over mine. It's not romantic, it's comfort. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be ready to commit to someone right now. In fact, I don't think I ever will be. But having a friend around, to listen, someone you know and are comfortable with. Someone who has a slight history with you, is a nice thing. It's sometimes, the only thing you really need.

"Do you think Unn will come back?"

Raul sighs as I lean into his body. His clothes are dry, because he chose to keep them above his head as he swam the river. Still, he brings his arms around me, holding me, comforting me by rubbing my upper arm, and resting his head on top of mine.  
"Why do you care so much?"

"I don't know, really. Just a thought I guess."

"You were mad when they walked away."

"I'm glad I didn't get close to them. There was no time to, really. And I didn't want to."

"What would have happened if you did get close to them, though?"

"Then I would have probably killed Jackie. I can't see myself being best friends with a girl. But a guy…a guy I can be great friends with, with no strings and no sex. It's great."

"Didn't Unn pick on you for the past couple of days?"

"Yeah, he did, but I think it was kind of how he did things. You know? Charon and I did that to one another when we first met. We'd pick at each other until blood was shed. It was pretty funny, you know."

"I bet it was."

Before I can help it or stop it, tears start pouring down my face. Raul sees this, and wraps his arms around me a bit tighter. Turning my head, I press it into Raul's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Moan and gasps are muffled, by his shirt, and his quiet reassurances go unnoticed to my deaf ears.

"I…miss…him…"

I wail, pressing myself deeper into his chest.

"Hush, hush…I know…I know it's alright, hush now."

"I _can't_!"

More sobbing, more pleas of pain, more crying on Charon's behalf. Why did he have to die? Why? Why was he taken? What did I do, that was so horrible, for me to deserve to feel this way? I could have lost a limb, I could have died myself. Why make me live without him? Make me go on, my life in good health, while the only being who I've ever held concrete emotions for lies rotting somewhere in the Capital Wasteland? Am I forever to be succumbed to this sadness, night after night? Beneath the stars and the moon, for the rest of my life, will I cry and beg them to give him back to me? I don't know, I'll never know, all I do know is right now, the pain is seeping everywhere. Like water down a drain, it leaves me, and flows all around.

"Why did he have to leave?"

I ask Raul, not really expecting an answer, not caring about much else.

"It's just the way things are, Dezbe. It's how life is."

"_No_! No they could have taken me…they could have taken me…"

He pats my head, smoothing down the hair that isn't there. Finally, my sobs begin to die down, and all that's left are the swollen eyes from crying, and the deep breathing of my lungs catching up to everything. I keep myself against the comforting chest of my friend, knowing that I needed this. Knowing that I needed someone to listen, and to protect me for once. To keep me safe, for just a night, when all my life I've been the one protecting something.

"I'll come with you, if you need me to. If you want me to."

Raul says softly, the fire popping over his voice. A stray ash lands in the river, sizzling out.

"Come where?"

"To get them. To get the Brotherhood."

Lifting my head, I peer up at him through blurry eyes. If he wasn't tinged with green, he'd look almost like Charon. He bears more of a resemblance to Gob, but then again, at the end of the day, all ghouls look the same.

"You don't have to."

"I can't stand by, while these people make such a pretty smoothskin cry."

I smirk a bit, Raul's hand stroking my cheek.

"There you go, boss. There's that smile."

"I'm strong, you know."

"Yeah, yeah I know. I remember. Them fights we went through in New Vegas on the strip."

"Yeah, those were great."

Raul smiles down at me, as my heart slows to a normal pace. Recovering, after forcing itself when I was sad. I see a shooting star, and I make a wish. But I can't tell you what that wish is, or it won't come true. And I hope to god, I hope, that it does.

"Think he's watching over me?"

I ask, staring up at the stars as Raul lays down, my body going with him. I cling to his torso, remembering the nights we'd share together in New Vegas.

"Yeah. I think he is. I don't think he's going to let a damned thing happen to you, either."

"I think Unn wanted to be found."

I feel Raul move, as our feet shift closer to the fire.

"Oh, really?"

"He didn't have to make that much noise. I don't know but there's just something about him."

"You ever see his face?"

"No."

"Then whose to say he wasn't one of your old friends, helping out?"

"He's not. He's an asshole. I'm glad he's gone, you know. Jackie, too. She was really starting to wear me out."

"She seemed rather obnoxious."

"Yeah. She was."

Our steady breathing is the only noise, for the brief silence that follows my sentence.

"Are you scared?"

Raul asks, and I lift my head. Giving him a strange look, I lick my lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Of this. I mean, of going to fight the Brotherhood. They're not a small army, Dezbe."

"There's only a few of them here. And I'm not expecting to beat them, anyways."

"What?"

Raul sits up, making me slide off of him. Using my hands, I hold myself up as my legs shift with the movement. We stare at one another, his face glowing by the firelight. We're not far from Underworld. We'll reach there tomorrow, and after tomorrow, we'll head to Rivet City, or better yet the Jefferson Memorial. I don't care anymore, if the Brotherhood knows of my presence. I just have to speak with Bigsley.

"I don't expect to beat them, Raul."

"So you expect to die out there? Fighting them?"

My silence gives him the answer. Raul sighs, pressing his back up against the high concrete wall. He rests his elbows on his knees, and I frown at him. My mind plays a woeful piano melody, and just once, before the time comes where I bid the world farewell, I'd like to play it again.

"I'm not sad about it, you know."

Defending your impending death is difficult. Especially when you know it's going to happen, when you know people will be affected. It's hard, to differentiate that and suicidal. I try anyways.

"You don't have to die, Dezbe. There's other ways to get back at them."

"My ears are open."

"Well, I can't think of none right now but give me some time and I will."

"If you can think of some before we get there, we'll try it. If not, then my plan is the best. You don't have to come for that part, I totally understand."

"What kind of friend would I be, if I watched you walk into your own funeral?"

"And what kind of friend would I be, if I let you join me in that funeral?"

"Then we're at a stalemate."

I don't say anything back to him. He doesn't continue on, and what could have been a lighthearted and comical conversation turns silent. What kind of friend, would I be…if I didn't at least try? Raul wants to come with me. He's willing to die for me, on my behalf, and I don't know why. Well…no. I lied. I know why he does. Because he loves me. He's been in love with me, since I rescued him from the Nightkin. A love, I've never been able to return. In New Vegas, at Black Mountain, and later at our shared shack just outside Jimmy's Well, I wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to care for another ghoul. The men were easy, you know? They never had much semblance to Charon. It was easy to go with them, to share a bed and rob them blind the next morning. But Raul? A ghoul? No, I couldn't. Even when I first stepped foot in New Vegas, I knew sooner or later I'd be returning to the Capital Wasteland. Going back to your old love, with a new one, makes too much of a mess. But he was my only real friend out there. I owe him.

Which is why I can't let him do this. I can't let him go, and risk his life for a woman who could never love him. If I went in there, knowing my friend would surely die, there's be no peaceful death. No sweet salvation, or black surrounding me. I'd feel too ugly. Too horrible. Too scared, for one of the few friend I have in this world. Unn and Jackie, they weren't my friends. I knew when Jackie asked to come with me to the Capital Wasteland that our friendship, if it was that, would be compromised. Never really got the chance, to get to know Unn. Never, really, wanted to. We were the three of us for a day, before that trio went down to one. Two, really if you count Raul.

Raul isn't with me though. He can't be with me. I won't let him be, either. Not just in a romantic way too. In any way, really. I'm a solitary person. I've always been alone, by myself, off having wonderful and tragic adventures in my own mind. The Capital and Mojave Wastelands gave me that vast silence, with the action and inner torture, that the vault Dezbe yearned for. It's over now, though, and the highlight of living here's gone dull. It's not an adventure with romance, if the romance is dead. With the few friends I do have here, I have to make it work for them. All I've ever done to those I know and care for, is brought them pain and discomfort. Why should they suffer more? I know Raul thinks this is what he wants, but we both know it isn't. He can find a night ghoulette somewhere, settle down, and tell her the tales of his wild days pre-war, and the wonderful story of when the bombs fell on their small ranch. Wonderful as in mesmerizing and descriptive, not happy by any means.

So I wait until Raul is asleep. I wait, into the wee hours of the night, as the fire dies out and the stars begin to dull, to do what I'm best at. Raul's arms grow limp around me, and a cold breeze wishes for them back, to warm my bare skin, but I know better. I'm a master, of waiting and thinking. A master of all in my own mind. Slipping away from him is easy, I've done it so many times in the past. Going off, running away, it's the only thing I seem to be good at. I guess when your entire life is based off of being chased about, you learn these useful skills. You learn, and you get into the pattern of it all. I won't be able to break this pattern, Charon was the only one who could ever possibly break it from me, but that's okay. It'll all be okay. One day, someday.

Picking up my small pack, I'm careful to make no noise. Raul is like me in a lot of ways, although he can sleep through a bomb dropping, the tiniest twig snapping with set him off. I suppose then I should make a ruckus, huh? Either way, when my pack is fastened to my back, I look at my friend in the light of the moon. His hands rest on his stomach, as if my body was still laying there. His hand and leg twitch in his sleep, and I wonder what it is he's dreaming about. Bending down, I kiss the top of his head, knowing I won't ever see him again.

"Thank you for loving me. Not many people do."

I whisper, before I scurry up the concrete stairs that will lead me into the walled outskirts of the D.C ruins. Raul won't ever know, how much it all means to me. How much his kindness and support have meant to me. Gob won't ever know, either. Because I don't think there's a worldly way to show them. Nothing I could ever do, could express my gratitude and appreciation, to those two ghouls. Even if bringing the moon to their doorsteps was possible, it wouldn't be enough. The only thing I can think of, to show them how much I care in return, is to leave. Leave their lives, with no intent to return.

I've caused enough trouble, after all. If it wasn't for me, Gob would still have Nova. Raul wouldn't have ended up in a strange land with no friends and no direction, and I'm sure Charon would still be alive. The guilt I carry, knowing that my mere presence at the age of nineteen threw such a wrench in the only three who I can think, cared for me, is immense. Walking away as I'm doing now, walking away from all of it, is the best I can think of doing.

The wind blows dust around my ankles, as I walk on the paved areas of the ruins. I think of all that's happened, in the past almost seven years since my leaving of Vault 101. So many things have changed. So many lives, have taken turns for the worse. It's because of me, too. Because of me, that things have come to be this. If I was pure evil, I could laugh at all of this. Laugh at the Wasteland for slowly turning into what came to destroy it, laugh at all the lives I've single-handedly ruined, and laughed at all the people who fell and died at my hand and gun. But I'm not pure evil. Maybe sometime in my younger years, I was young and brazen, but not evil. Misguided and slightly insane, but evil? No. No I could never look into Gob's face, and tell him I'm glad he lost Nova. Never look into Charon's eyes and say how angry I am at him, for becoming more human than any real man I've met. I could never.

And the warmth is what stops me from being so evil. The warmth I felt, when I walked into Moriarty's and met Gob for the first time. The warmth that covered me, when I felt Charon's hand wrap around my wrist as I drifted in the air. The warmth that forced into my body…when I fell head over heels in love with him. Would I take it all back, if it meant my friends would live their lives forever without me ever being there? Would I give up the warmth and laughter along the way, if it meant perhaps they'd be alright? Surprisingly…no…I wouldn't. Because in a way, if it wasn't for me, things wouldn't have happened. Good things, I mean. Charon would still be under Ahzrukhal's command, Gob would still be with Moriarty, and he and Nova would have never been able to create the beautiful being that is now Zack. With all bad, comes some good. Maybe the bad do outweigh the good, but that's okay. It's okay because…because the good that's there is worth it all. It's worth every last bit, of pain and suffering, that we've all been through. Everything, has a reason. Everything.

Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, my tired feet mechanically move me. Move me towards a destination unknown, yet knowing where they're going. I can't cry over things anymore. Crying happens for young women, children, and those with reason. I've kept my reasons pulled out long enough. There's no more of it left to cry about. Everything is as it is, and hopefully, there's reason in this, too. I'm a big girl. I'm a supergirl. And supergirls don't cry.


	25. I Want Your Drama

(Jackie)

Here I am just walking the Wasteland with this fine, fine, oh so fine man. Actually, we're not doing much walking. In fact we're not walking at all. Unn's pretty resourceful. Found that out after he took my gun and started shooting things and calling it 'dinner'. He wouldn't have had to take my gun if I didn't forget his, though. What do I care for? I'm unarmed but that's not important because Unn is also a pretty good fighter. Not that we've run into trouble or anything like that but he seems pretty well-off. So after walking till the sun set, Unn built a nice campfire and that's where we are now, and it's really warm, and I'm not scared one bit. I do want to get closer to him, though. A lot closer.

"You going to eat?"

Unn asks me, as I take a drag of my cigarette. I try to be flirty and look casual, and I've been flirting all day trust me but it's not working. Unn just has this immunity to it, I think. Probably happens so often with him that he doesn't know what to do. So all he does is ignore it. Immune, to the sexual advances of a beautiful woman such as myself. Ah, the tragedy. Oh well, I have him in my company and Dez the loony is off with some useless ghoul. So really now, who wins? Me.

"No, I'm not too hungry."

"You should eat something. We have a long walk tomorrow."

"I'll worry about it then, I guess."

Unn shrugs, finishing the meat he has in his hand. He wipes his hands clean on his pants, and rests his back against a large boulder. It's a long night, since it's only a little past sunset, so I figure maybe we can start conversation. One thing I don't like about him his he doesn't talk. Not one word, really. Maybe he's just shy, though. It's okay, I'll break him from that.

"So Unn you have a sweetheart?"

It doesn't matter if he does or don't because I'm going to try anyways. Asking is just a nice icebreaker.

"A what?"

"Sweetheart. You know, girlfriend?"

"What? No."

"You're kidding me, right?"

Unn takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly.

"I _had_ one, I suppose you could say. But I don't now."

"Oh, that's sad. Or did you want it to end?"

"Your attempt at flirting with me are annoying. I suggest you stop. You look stupid."

Stupid? _Me_? I look stupid? Well, maybe he's just never been in the presence of a real woman then. Throwing my cigarette into the fire, I lie back on the dirt. Sleeping on the hard ground isn't fun at all. I mean, sure I thought living out here and going on a wild trip with Dezbe would be great. You know, like you see in the movies or whatever, but it's really not. It sucks. Dezbe is insane, to want to live like this. Actually I'm not sure she does. I think she just does it to prove she can, but got a few too many knocks on the head and now thinks she has to.

"Hey Unn?"

He told me to stop flirting, and for a little I'll listen. Right now I'm laying so he gets a perfect view of my perfect chest. That is, if he'd open his stupid eyes and look.

"Hm?"

A grunt. Great.

"Why do people want to live out here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do people want this lifestyle? It's not fun. I'd rather be back home in The Pitt doing not much of anything all day."

"Because some people aren't lazy."

Rolling on my stomach closer to the fire, I stick my tongue out at him. He doesn't see me because his eyes are closed, but it makes me feel better. I think, anyways.

"What about you, what's your story?"

"It's too long to tell."

"Why not share it then? What made you fall into Dez's company?"

"You know how that happened. Don't be stupid."

"Alright then. Why were you so upset over that Raul ghoul? Make you feel useless as the man around town?"

"Nothing of the sorts. My abilities far exceed that of Raul's. I'm in no way insecure in his presence."

"Why the fit then?"

"Because Dezbe doesn't need me around, you said it yourself."

"True. It's better you spent your time protecting me."

I have a smirk on my face when I say it, and Unn opens his icy blue eyes to glare at me. He doesn't see the comedy in me.

"Dezbe doesn't ever need protecting. Only from herself."

"You're telling me she's actually a tough cookie?"

"She liberated The Pitt single-handedly, didn't she?"

"Unn that doesn't count. That liberation was going to happen whether she was there or not. She just helped it along."

"She killed Ashur."

"Still. Unn you weren't there, you don't get it."

"I suppose I don't. Simply speaking though, out here there's two kinds of people. Those who live, and those who die. Dezbe, isn't either one."

"What is she then, the walking dead?"

"She is an exceptional being of exceptional standards and capabilities."

"So she lives?"

"And well. Better than most."

"She's rich? Wow…"

"I don't think you understand monetary gain or value isn't what's what out here. It's who can hack it. Dezbe can, which is why people are scared of her. She can endure and survive conditions most would cringe simply thinking of. It's those kinds of traits that make her special."

Raising an eyebrow, I lock eyes with Unn. Slowly, I move closer to him. Like it or not, Unn's with me. I want the full special treatment, too.

"Well, I'm glad you think Dezbe is this wonderful human being and all but, let's not talk about her anymore."

"You brought it up."

"What about you? Any interesting stories in your life? Dark and tragic romances?"

"No."

Putting my hands under my chin, I look up at him while I lie on my stomach. The fire warms the entire left side of my body, as I kick my feet in the air and dangle them there.

"Oh come on. Open up. All those scars have to have a back-story. Tell me one."

Unn looks over his forearms while he keeps them crossed at his chest. For a minute I think he's going to tell me something, then he closes his eyes again and rests his head back on the rock.

"No."

"You're a man of one-worded answers now, aren't you?"

"Hm."

"Alright let's play the guessing game. I'll guess, and you tell me yes or no. It'll pass the time and I can find out more about you."

"I prefer we not."

Sitting up, I fold my legs under me and pout. Unn opens one eye but closes it again. How can I show off, if he's not even looking?

"I bet if I paraded around here half-naked shooting everything up you'd talk to me."

"If you did that, you'd be killed."

Ouch, talk about an insult.

"You telling me I'm not a good gunslinger?"

"Yes."

"Well I _am_."

"If you say so."

The fire makes light and dark dance over his chiseled face. You know he's actually making himself more appealing to me, by playing this whole 'hard to get' scheme. I know he wants me just as bad, he just won't say it. After all why else would he leave and opt to venture with me back home to The Pitt? It's sex, and it's accepted everywhere.

"What about you? I've never seen you shoot anything. What if we're both horrible shots?"

"I highly doubt that."

"Oh really? Why?"

"I have training. You have insolence."

"Kiss your mother with that mouth now?"

Unn rolls his eyes, opening them first. I smile a bit cheeky at him, hoping to get more than a monotone response and one-worded answer. He doesn't though, and ignores my cheeky smirk. Sighing, I throw my hands in the air dramatically.

"Oh but you'll talk my ear off about Dez the entire night now won't you?"

Unn shrugs, looking off into the distance.

"No."

"Then what will you talk about?"

"Nothing. There is nothing to say."

"Sure there is. We just have to find something to talk about."

"You're quite the annoyance."

"Yeah I know."

Unn gets up, and stands over the fire. His looming presence is a turn on, and I shudder for the quick second he stands still. When he walks away, I pout to myself, sad. Unn walks to the edge of the light, you know, right where it ends and begins from our little fire. Nonchalantly he lights a cigarette, and inhales deep. I watch his chest move up and down with his breathing, wondering what he might look like beneath the clothes. Picking myself up, I go and join him even though I just had a cigarette.

"Can I bum one?"

I ask, and Unn hands me his pack and a lighter. Getting laid should never be this difficult.

"I think this trip would be a lot more enjoyable if we had conversation."

"I don't."

"Well then we're in a disagreement."

"Seems that way."

"I know how to end it."

"Hm?"

"By talking about unrelated things. That way, you won't tell me about yourself, and I get conversation. Sound fair?"

Unn shrugs in reply. Well la-de-fuckin'-da. This is the hardest I've ever worked on getting into someone's pants. Usually guys just drop their drawers and say 'let's go' before I can count to three. Unn's a challenge, and that challenge makes it all worthwhile.

"So…about the weather…"

I say, making sure he knows I have no idea what to talk about. To my surprise though, Unn humors me.

"It's been nice."

"Lots of fresh water around here, too. Didn't expect that."

"It's a recent addition."

"Pretty under-populated…"

"People stay in the city."

Alright this is going practically nowhere. Tossing down my cigarette I crush it beneath my boot and fold my arms. Staring at Unn, I breathe heavily through my nose. I'm not sure what to do next.

"Perhaps you would do better to give me my personal space."

"Why?"

I step closer to him, taunting and testing.

"Because I do not like to be crowded."

"So tell me, Unn, what else don't you like?"

With my arms folded beneath my breasts, I push them upwards. He glances down, then back at my face, still calm.

"Women who push themselves on men who are uninterested."

Unn turns away while I stand more than a bit shocked. Uninterested? Is he referring to me? Putting my hands on my hips, I watch him walk back to the fire. He sits down, all casual and all like he didn't just insult me. I'm not quite sure if he did, though. Maybe he was just talking? Either way I'm not giving up. All men like sex, it's just the task of getting certain ones to realize that. Like Unn. So I walk back to the fire, too. More determined now than ever to get him into my pants. Speaking of pants…

When I get over to the fire, I wait a bit. Unn feeds it more logs, I don't think he's planning on sleeping. It doesn't matter to me if he does or not. Anyways, I play the part. I sit by the fire, and tug at my shirt. Subtly always works.

"It's hot."

I mutter, and Unn looks at me and how close I'm sitting to the fire.

"Move away, then."

He's leaning against that boulder, with his pretty blue eyes closed and his head back. His arms are folded over his chest, and even though his eyes are closed, I get the feeling he's watching me. I use it to my advantage, as I begin to unzip my top, and move down to my pants. The noise of the zipper seems so loud, but I know it's just my nerves. When I get everything unzipped, you know shirt and pants and whatnot, I kick off my shoes. Once those are dealt with, I remove everything else. Save for my bra and panties, of course.

"What are you doing?"

Unn really isn't one for obvious hints now is he? I give him a sideways smirk, as I lean on my palms and stretch out in front of the fire.

"Cooling off."

"Put your clothes back on and move away if you're so damned hot."

"Alright."

I don't put my clothes back on, but I do move away. I move closer to him. Right next to him.

"Your presence bothers me."

"Come on, you're a guy. How long has it been since you last had the best stress relief known to man?"

"I had a beer before finding Dez. Not that long."

I smirk, he wants me, he knows it. Problem is he won't admit it. I don't know how it happens after that, though. It's all a blur of quick shouting, a display of manly anger, and the next thing I know Unn is showing me how a real man does it and I'm moaning louder than a dying animal. He doesn't kiss me, or have any mouth-to-body interaction with me. All it is, is this amazingly angry and pleasurable feeling. I've never felt this way doing the act before, but I know this is the only man who'll ever make my body shudder like this. Before we finish, I make a choice to make sure he stays with me. No matter the cost.


	26. Remember When

Poking my head from the underground tunnels, the sun burns my eyes. Lifting a paled hand, I shield it's powerful rays from my face. A warm wind blows. Dust picks up. It's the same as it was six years ago, and I hope it'll always be the same. I walk the same steps I once did, when I first arrived here. On a chilled desert night, when the skies were black and the Capital Wasteland was flooded with certain dangers, I climbed a piece of rubble, and found this place. Found the monument, found the Museum of History. I found the horror that would follow me for the rest of my time here, even though I didn't know it then.

My small feet carry me on the same cracked and broken pavement I walked so many years ago. Years ago when the world to me was fresh and new, when this life was so much fun and filled with adventure and unknown feats. Now, now it seems desolate, and empty. Although it's burning hot outside, there's a cold undercurrent that tugs at me. This place held so many Super Mutants so long ago. It holds so many memories. I smirk, as I pick my head up and see the monument up close. Hello, home. Hello, world. I'm here now, and how have you been? It's beautiful, you know. The huge phallic-like stance of it, the faded white marble and it's presence. The small wading pool is still irradiated, and I remember so long ago Vicious Dogs running around it. They wouldn't attack me, but they'd attack everything else. This place…means a lot to me.

Adjusting the pack on my back, I delay walking into the Museum of History. In a way, I want to keep this plaque with me. For some reason, it gives me a small ray of hope. Hope, that perhaps Charon survived. That his body isn't lying in a shallow and unmarked grave, somewhere in the Capital Wasteland. That the man I once knew and loved, is still with me somehow. Putting it down at the remains of Underworld will mean something. It'll mean that everything I once knew before, is gone now. Moving to New Vegas…was probably one of the worst things I ever did. When I left, Underworld was in perfect working condition. All my friends were there, Nova and Gob. Little Zack, barely a bundle in my arms. When I returned…everyone I knew and cared for in a sense, dispersed. Nurse Graves and Doc Barrows went to Rivet City, probably to finish working on their discreet study to reverse ghoulification. Nova perished when Gunny and Sara Lyons raided Underworld. Quinn wanders now, trading and whatnot, for the rest of the ghouls holding up at Tenpenny Tower. Change happened and I wasn't here to see it.

Even though I stand in front of the doors of the museum, I don't want to open them. I don't, because Willow isn't here wandering around. Lily isn't in her shop, and Greta and Carol aren't running their bed and breakfast thing. Winthrop won't be there fixing things, and I know for a fact no one will be in the Ninth Circle. Knowing that…that everything dear to me is lost, hurts. Placing the plaque will prove that. It'll prove the end of Charon, the end of Underworld, and the end of everything I knew I cared about. Charon and I…we began in that place. We started our employment contract, and began our friendship in Underworld. We reunited there after The Pitt, and found one another there after I activated the Purifier. It was all perfect, how it happened between us, and now it's gone.

Glancing down at the pack, I sigh. It has to be done, and I have to move on. Dwelling…dwelling can't be done out here. People die, and that's that. Every day, a woman loses someone she loves, and a man watches his wife die. It's not a kind place, nor is it merciful, but it's the life we choose to live when we decide to leave our homes and wander the Wasteland. Charon's death will mean something to Gob and myself, no one else. There won't be changes because of it, and no stranger will cry for him. He, in reality, is no different than anyone we've killed in our own lives. I guess karma really is a bitch now, isn't it?

Placing my hand on the cold door, I push it open with ease. The loud creak it makes, echoes through the empty and vast marble building. A ray of light from the sun makes my shadow look big, in the doorway as it provides a false brightness. I know when I close the door, the museum will be dark and empty. I don't even know, if Fawks is still here. If he's not dead, he's moved onwards to bigger and better things. I only wish I could have been here to say goodbye. To say I cared. But I wasn't. I wasn't here for any of this, and feel slightly responsible for it's demolish.

Closing the door, the light is omitted out. Just as I knew it would be. Here in this lobby, Charon gave Jericho a piece of his mind. With a very pregnant Nova and a proud Gob, I stood here. It was the last time I saw Nova. Her belly was big, about to burst, and she was so happy. I'm glad, though, that that's my last memory of her. She deserves to be remembered that way. Not as Moriarty's hooker, but as a mother-to-be, with the man she loved. I remember how her hand would rest on her belly, how she'd look at Gob and smile. How excited she was, to meet Carol and how happy Gob was to return home with a beautiful woman. So many good things happened here, and in my past, that I wish I could have appreciated them this much when they were all taking place. But I suppose if I did, I wouldn't cherish them like I do now. It's a special thing, I think, to realize the meaning of something only after it's ended. It's a bit more…well, meaningful then.

My footsteps make a loud echo as I walk. A deep ticking sound, that's rhythmic and comforting. It's so quiet in here, with no wind in your ears, things to listen for, and things making sound. I'd feel uncomfortable, if my feet weren't loud. I'm so use, to having to listen and my life depending on it, that the silence is a strange place to be for me. The barrel of fire isn't there. It wasn't there, when I first came back. It makes me a bit sad. To me, that barrel was a sign to wry travelers. It said 'Come, come rest. I'll keep you warm. Step inside, there's food, there's drink. Rent a bed, please, rest…rest…and all will be well'. Moreover, it meant something deeper. Deeper, than the place that stands before me, rubble of small things blocking the doors, caved in on itself, the skull in shattered remains.

The barrel, always bright, always lit, meant something new. Meant that something dead, can be reborn. That somehow, it's shining light and life-giving heat, was so symbolic to people like me. People, who ventured inside the ghoul city, and found kindness in strangers. I used to think that I'd never be able to carry on without Charon. That I couldn't live, couldn't breathe, unless he was there doing it with me. Now…now I realize things are different. I have to live, I have to breathe, if not for myself then for his memory. Forever, I have to make sure that he stays in the minds of those he never met. Stays, to be remembered as a mystery.

Pulling the plaque out of the pack, I play that beautiful song Charon and I shared together in my head. It's a strong metal, and I'm sure will last for generations and years to come. Someday, historians will busy themselves crazy, with unraveling the mystery of who Charon was. They'll look for clues and evidence, thinking it's scattered around the Wasteland. They'll make him out to be this important person, based on warped information, and old wives' tales. And the former shell of myself will laugh at them. Watching, high up on some cloud, I'll laugh at them. Laugh, because Charon wasn't extravagant.

Charon, was everything to me. In my eyes, he was the most important being to have ever existed. To the eyes of the historians who find this, they'll wonder and ponder, and give him the title of a 'great man'. They won't ever know the truth. They won't know, that he was created for killing. That he was nothing of emotional importance to anyone. Until John, until me, Charon was simply a gun for hire. Yet they won't know that. All they'll think, is that he somehow changed the world. Changed it all, when in reality, all he changed was the inner workings of a complicated woman. It's important, though. Any man, who changes and helps and loves a woman, the way he did, deserves historical reference. It's so much more beautiful, than the wars and the deaths that have plagued mankind. Love grown from the gritty reality we've come to live by, is rare. Charon and I…they won't know.

Kneeling down, I grasp the plaque tightly in my hand. I wish I could have shown Charon the way I see the world. Wish, that I had the power to show him how much he truly meant to me. So much, words cannot place them. Did he know that I loved him? Loved him more than anything in the world? Loved him, to the point where there's not a day where I don't wish it was me that bullet hit? I'm not sure. I'll never know. Inside, I would quiver and shake. When we would lie together on cold nights, close and frightful of the emotions being presented to us, I'd shiver. His touch, would stop those shakes. Stop them and warm me, just like the sun, only it would be during the cold, cold, nights.

The night…the nights that I danced by the light of the moon. Closing my eyes, I feel the memory as I see it in my mind. A guitar, someone played it. I danced that night, the night after I kissed him in Rivet City. Danced, drank, and ate with what I assumed was good company. Lifting the beer to his lips for him, my hands wrapping around his waist, such waves of emotions were flooding through me. I softly begged him to dance, my voice then at that night, was soft. Because I wanted to show him my gentle side. Wanted him to see how I could be kind and nurturing. I told him of my analogy of Pluto, and the moon named Charon. I was Pluto, you know. Overshadowing Charon until one day, Charon was knocked out of balance, and knocked Pluto down to size. Brought it back, where it needed it to be, and kept everything in perfect working order. That night…that night I made him promise me something. Promises…they meant everything to me. Everything, because the world was so, so big.

I made him promise not to die before me. Nearly ordered him to. Ordered him, to stay alive even if we were both on the verge of death. I knew even then, I wouldn't be able to function for a moment, if Charon died. I danced for him in the light of the moon, just for him. I remember swaying my hips and hoping and praying he was watching. Watching, because I wanted him to see me. He was, even though I never looked. Back then…back then Charon was always watching me. He was always there, a mercenary, a friend. He knew so much, but it was so hard for him to realize it all and come to terms. I waited for him. And I'll wait for him now.

I smirk, with my eyes still closed, remembering the Talon capture. It happened the night after I danced. I was so slick, back then. I pouted, and cried at Charon, claiming he had hurt me and made me bleed. He didn't. It was old stitches ripping, but he didn't know that. As much as I hated manipulating his emotions, it was fun, and now it makes me laugh. We were so stupid back then, and that stupidity is what I love most about my memories. Another five years, and I'll think I'm stupid now, and will think those memories are even funnier. What I did back then to him, to escape with the whole knife thing, isn't funny. But my attitude, and the way I got the courage to kiss him, is.

Opening my eyes, a sad smile forms. I run my hands over the engraving. The letters, neatly forming words that form numbers and sentences, dig into the tips of my fingers. There won't be anymore memories of Charon and I to look back on. If I live to be old, which I doubt, the only memories I'll have of him, are the ones I have now. It's why I need to make him remembered. I need to put something in his name. Something important, something for people to find if they ever wander here. It isn't worth money, so I know no one will steal it. And if they do, at least then it'll be in circulation. At least then, people will know of Charon, and that he lived to be over two-hundred years old. I wonder, if historians will know about ghouls when they find this? If not, then they will be quite confused.

Putting the plaque down, I lean it against the pile of stone that was once, so long ago, Underworld. Kissing my fingers, I touch it for the last time. He broke his promise. One of the rare orders I gave. Just don't die before me. Don't die, and let me live on with this misery. But he did, and I know that I can't die now. I can't die, unless I have good reason to. I'll show him, and the rest of the world, somehow, that he didn't die in vain.

"Hey! Human!"

Jumping up, I reach for my gun on instinct. Turning around a Super Mutant stands behind me. Not Fawks, a bad one.

"You in _my_ home! You die!"

Nope, not on my watch, fucker. I fire three quick shots to his head, my body shaking with the feel of adrenaline. Figure the one time I'm vulnerable is the one time I'm nearly ambushed. The Super Mutant could have killed me, if he didn't open his giant mouth. But lo and behold, he did. That's why they're mostly dead. Because they're stupid.

The feel of the power and rush surging through me is enough to waken my body. I'm more alert now, as I quickly refill my gun. The mutant, though, is dead. The shots to the head so readily killing him, makes me realize he isn't a Brute or Master. That, I'm glad of.

"Well, that was easy."

My gun isn't ranged, which isn't good, but up-close it kicks ass. The modifications I did to it worked, because I've never before been able to kill a Super Mutant with three shots. But then again I've always been ranged and with an unmodified weapon. So I guess there is a real difference. It really did save my ass. Without it I would have been dead.

I go to turn around, you know. To pick up the empty pack and sling it around my shoulder, because you know I don't know what I may find of use to me. But I can't. I can't, because as I turn my body, pain happens. Pain, as the adrenaline leaves and the body's natural morphine kicks in. I know what it is, before I touch it. In the midst of the action, the mutant got me. His .22 Hunting Rifle lies next to his dead body, a one-shot-pull-lever kind of gun, he only had time for one bullet. And he got me. That prick.

Falling to my knees, my hands cup over the small entrance wound. It hurts more than I thought it would, which means there's an exit. Painfully, I reach around. Sure enough, moist and warm blood grazes my fingertips, as they brush against tender, ripped skin. Lower back exit wound, left side. Small entrance wound, mid-to-right side. It hit something, and I know it. My breath is normal, because I don't panic. My own blood doesn't scare me, as Charon would often yell at enemies. Instead, I find myself oddly comforted. Even though my heart is racing, pumping more and more and more blood only for it to be lost, I'm okay.

Looking back at the plaque as I kneel down, hunched over to decrease the pain with my hands applying pressure, I give it a tired smile.

"Hey, I'm alright…"

I say to the plaque, my voice soft and wispy. I know there's lack of color in my face, because I feel it draining. You know, all I have to do is walk outside to the small pool. Walk out there and take a quick dip and I'm healed. It's not a long walk, and I can make it. My endurance allows me to make it, and I've gotten hurt a lot worse in the past, and done far greater things, than simply walk. But I don't want to. You see I was expecting to die once I found the Brotherhood's base. I wasn't going to die by my own hand, and I figured I was cocky enough to get by and nothing would hurt me. Now that I'm presented with a way out, a way to see Charon just a bit faster, done by something I had no control over, I feel I'll go that way.

Laying down, I rest my head on a flat piece of stone. It's not very comfortable, but it'll do. My hands are still clamped around the exit wound, and soon I see the reflection of my own blood. It's red, and it's spooky. Yet I'm smiling. I'm smiling, because I know technically, this isn't suicide. All I'm doing, is choosing to wait until I can't anymore, and to close my eyes to see greater things. In my chest my heart pounds and beats. It beats because I'm losing blood. It beats, because it's full of hope. It knows, better than I do, that I'll see Charon soon. All I'm doing now, is waiting. And while I wait, while I try and rest, I close my eyes. It's soon now, I can feel it.

Memories flood my mind, as the warmth of my own blood seeps through my fingers. You know, I'm not even trying anymore. Laying here, watching my memories through closed eyes, is suddenly so comfortable. Charon was insatiable when I met him, you know. He was mean, witty, uncaring, cold, and strong. Strong, brave, powerful. He saved my life, twice in the same day, our first day together. Our first night. I'll always remember that night, Charon. I'll always remember how we met. How unromantic it was, how unromantic we were together, and totally insane we came to be. But that's what makes it beautiful you know.

Just like when I scratched the scab off of my ear. Charon, you were there to fix it. You grabbed my head, and patted the stupid cut with gauze until it didn't bleed anymore. No one, not even in New Vegas, tended to my wounds like you did. You had such a gentle touch, a warm glow. I needed that, you know. Needed it and wanted you to give it to me, and in time, you did. I'd beg you, pray for you, to stay with me those first few months. You know, when we were chasing my dad all over hells bells. You were all I knew, and for a young girl, a strong mercenary is her best asset. You were mine, you were always the good guy. Me? I was the bad one, Charon.

But still, you promised, promised we could be like Daring Dashwood and Argyle. Roving and stomping the Wasteland, fighting evil while doing no good. We were a team, from the night I met you, till the night you died. A team, you and I, me and you. I remember that night. That night, by the fire. I danced and I danced and I wanted you so badly. I danced for you to see, I danced for you to watch. I lifted the beer to the lips that just a night ago I had kissed. I danced and danced through the pain of my shoulder, just to see you watching me.

Hey, Charon, remember…remember when you kissed my neck? I do. I remember. Sometimes on cold and lonely nights, that spot will light up with passion and fire. It'll light and warm me and make me shudder. You kissed the scar on my neck, so soft, so quick, it was like it never happened. But it did happen, Charon. Everything we did together happened. From the time you shielded me from the grenade at Jury Street, to the time you carried me bridal style into Rivet City. You held me in Megaton, as I wept for my father. You swore you wouldn't leave, and you didn't. You didn't, Charon. You stayed, and you stayed for me. You promised…that you'd never die before me.

Promise. You know. Promises I guess, you never intended to keep. It's not your fault, I know. You tried, and I tried too. Sometimes our best isn't enough but damnit we gave it all we could. I wish you were still here, so I could tell you this. Tell you how inside I feel so young again. So naïve and carefree, like I was when we first met. You remember that, Charon? I do…I do…don't forget, okay? Don't forget because I'm still that person. Inside, way deep down, I am, Charon. I'm that scared and insane nineteen-year-old girl. Charon I am. I need you now, more than I ever did, more than I wanted to admit. Right now, I need you more, than I needed you that night in Megaton. I wish you were here, Charon.


	27. The Adventure

(Jackie)

Unn hasn't said a damn thing to me since last night. I'm not even sure where we are, I'm just following him with the blinders on because he should know this place better than me. He lives here, doesn't he? I really don't know much about him, other than his name, what he looks like and that he works for the Brotherhood. It kind of bothers me, too, that he hasn't said anything. Does he regret it? I mean, I did force myself on him in a way, but hell he took it. He took it and made it his so I'd do it all over again tonight if I had the chance.

Looking back behind me after climbing a steep hill, I see the outline of the city. Can't remember what the city's name was or is, but it looks like shit. There's nothing much left of it, but this giant, tall monument-like thing. Wonder what it could be? Maybe a memorial to someone pretty pre-war badass, you know? I don't know, and really I don't care to know. I'm not from this place, so I don't feel much obligation towards it. If that makes any sense at all. What's on my mind is my own home, The Pitt, with my friends and those who love me. I'm hoping Unn will stay there, too. He seems like the kind of guy who needs to know people, before he lets them know him. That's perfectly possible in The Pitt since there's no real threats anymore and everyone is so chill and calm.

"When do we get there?"

I ask him, while we stand and rest for a minute. We've been walking all morning and my feet are killing me. I was really stupid to ask Dez to join her in this thing. Fist off because I had no idea what the hell it was for, and second because really, why would I want to leave home? I guess I had to learn that lesson the hard way, though. I'm never leaving home again though, I can tell you that much.

"Later."

It's the first thing he's said since we woke up. Mind you he woke me up at the ass crack of dawn, too, so it's not like I had a good nights rest to work on. Sleeping on the cold, hard ground even with a warm fire, isn't the best thing. It's quite painful, you wake up stiff and all your joints crack. I think I pinched a nerve in my neck, too, because when I try to turn my head to the left it doesn't work right and it hurts a lot. Earlier, I tried to start conversation with Unn, but all he did was shrug it off. Sitting down on the dirt, I yawn. I can wait a bit to get home. I need a quick rest.

"What's wrong with you? You've been moping around all morning and it's really getting me down."

Unn glares at me, lighting a cigarette. Smoke exhales from his perfect lips and he shakes his perfect head filled with perfect hair at me. Ah…men.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Well you're stuck with me, so you might as well tell me."

"I'm worried about Dezbe."

_Dezbe_? He's thinking about _Dezbe_? After the night we shared together he's still thinking about _her_? They didn't even fuck! What the hell is he going to worry about her for?

"You're really thinking about _her_?"

His blue eyes pierce right into me. Even though he doesn't say anything, I feel scolded.

"I mean, we _slept_ together and you're not even talking to me about that, but you're thinking about _Dezbe_?"

"You are a regret. Dezbe is not."

"What do you mean she's not? What the hell are you talking about?"

I stand up to confront him, fight about this possible sticky situation, when Unn pulls out the SMG I gave to him. Instantly, I cover my head and duck, expecting him to shoot. He just seems like the kind of person to off anyone who makes him mad. Can't tell you where I get that assumption from, but trust me if you saw him, you'd think the same thing.

"Don't move!"

It takes me a bit, before I realize he's not speaking, nor aiming a gun, to my head. Lifting my hands off of my face, I open my eyes and look back. Unn stands, his muscles sexily flexing…why can't I keep my thoughts straight? Anyways they show through his white shirt, as he holds the SMG with both hands, pointing the nozzle at some unknown assailant. I don't know why he's holding it with two hands, I thought it was a one-handed weapon. And I have no idea what the end of a gun is called. Nozzle sounds right, right?

"Hey man, don't shoot!"

I know that voice! I do! Moving my legs, I push past Unn and stare where he's staring. He hasn't lowered his weapon yet, but that's okay. I'm hoping he wont shoot me right now. In front of me, my smirking face that is, stands that ghoul guy, you know, the one with the accent? What was his name? He was with Dez and whatnot?

"What's your name again?"

I ask him, folding my arms across my chest.

"It's me man, Raul. Tell this guy to lower his gun man."

Oh, right. Raul wasn't there when Unn ripped off his armor and tossed it all into the river. He was hanging back with Dezbe. Turning around, I notice Unn already has his gun lowered. There's a strange expression on his face, and he points a strong finger at Raul.

"Where's Dezbe!"

He hollers, his voice booming across the Capital Wasteland. I've never seen him like this. Is he really that worried about her?

"I don't know, man! I don't!"

Raul raises his hands in defense and Unn lowers his finger. I stand between them, but figure that's a bad idea. Stepping back, I sit down on a rock.

"You were with her, what happened?"

Unn's voice is steady now, but I can tell he's worried. Worried about something harsh, too. It can't just be about Dezbe, can it? I mean the girl hardly knows him, and he doesn't really know her, so why bother? It's not like I give a shit, and I was her friend in The Pitt.

"Look man, I don't know. We went to sleep and then I woke up and she was gone, alright? I figured maybe she went to find you two so I came lookin' too."

"Where'd she go?"

"I told you man, I don't know."

"Who cares?"

I quip up, and receive an angry glare from Unn.

"Did she tell you anything? Anything at all?"

Raul shakes his head at Unn. He's losing his head by now I think. Why so worried? Why's he care?

"Nah man. Just woke up and she was gone. Told me 'bout how she was goin' to fight some guys cuz of her ghoul friend and all the night before but that's all I know. Ain't knowin' where she went or none of that."

Unn's eyes grow wide, like he's just realized something very important. I'm lost in this entire conversation, mind you.

"She's…she's really doing it?"

Unn asks Raul, and I look at the two of them. What makes this girl so important to these people? Everyone we've run into, Dezbe knows. And in the same sense, Dezbe is liked and highly thought of by them. What the hell has she done here?

"Look man I'd tell you if I knew anything but I don't."

"You."

Unn looks directly at me, and I jump a bit. When he wants to, Unn can look really mean, and threatening. Even to a woman.

"What about me?"

I ask him pretty defensive. He runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes darting every which way.

"Do you know where she could have gone?"

Shrugging, I light a cigarette. I don't care.

"Not really, no. Didn't say much to me."

"Did she have anything on her? What was in that pack she had?"

"Why is this so important? It's not like you're going to find her. Even more, what's it matter to you? She's not that great of a person anyways."

Unn rushes me and grabs me by my upper arms. He holds me, like you would pick up a big sack, and shakes me a bit in anger. My body stiffens up, as I feel my lower half leaving the ground. Unn…Unn is quite powerfully strong. His eyes glare into me, and I feel a sense of fear more powerful than I'd felt anything before.

"She…she had a plaque in there…"

I say, scared, fearful, my cigarette dropping. Raul's face lights up as he stands behind Unn, and I hope he takes the attention off of me.

"Yeah, yeah man! Yeah! She did have a plaque! Said the name of that ghoul she always went with. Mentioned she was gonna put it somewhere I think, right Jackie?"

I nod in agreement, hoping that Unn will put me down. He does, and he turns back around to face Raul.

"But she didn't mention _where_ she was putting it?"

He asks, his voice dangerous.

"No, no I swear!"

Both Raul and me are terrified of Unn right now. He's given us a first-hand experience of his strength, and neither one of us want to test it anymore than we've had.

"I have to stop this."

Unn takes off before me or Raul can say otherwise. He runs, like a bat out of hell, down the hill and I see him slowly vanishing behind piles of scrap. When we passed it earlier, I saw people in dusters leaving a small shack near the scraps. We're not far from the city, if Raul caught up to us so quick. I have a strong feeling Unn was staying close to it, and delaying returning to The Pitt. Why I can't tell you, but it just seems that way.

Looking over at Raul, he has this really stupid look on his face. To my shock, I realize he's _happy_. Happy? What the _fuck_ is he happy about? Unn just took off with my gun, like a goddamned loon and Raul is _happy_? I'm sorry but I don't see the light at the end of this tunnel.

"What the fuck are you smiling about? Unn just left!"

Raul looks at me, smiling wide. His small black moustache stretches clear across his face.

"You say his name is Unn, right?"

"Yeah what of it?"

"Nothin' girl. Say where you headin' to?"

"I _was_ going to go home but now I don't know because I have no idea where to go from here. I'm not from here, this place is backwards and I don't know how to get home."

"You got a gun on you?"

"Nope."

Raul shrugs and motions to the small gun on his hip.

"If you need help figurin' stuff out I'd be glad to. I ain't got a destination, and don't wanna leave you stranded."

Against my better will and judgment, I let Raul lead the way. Without a map or a clear indication of where I'm going, it's better to have someone armed. I won't die with someone who can shoot a weapon, and maybe eventually I'll find the train station that brought me here. Although, by the looks of it, I don't think Raul knows his ass from his elbow, either. We're two Trogs running around with their heads chopped off. What the fuck did I do to get into this mess?


	28. And I'll Be There

I don't stop. I run, I pace, into the night. I watch the sun set, as I find a metro tunnel, and vanish beneath it. This puny SMG hasn't had timed to be fired. The enemies I've come across, I've been too quick to avoid. They stand confused, unsure of if they truly saw me. Unsure, if they've truly witnessed a being passing them. My heart, the chemicals my brain is running on, beats and are pumped through my body. I've fallen and scraped my face, the knees of my pants became torn, and my shirt's collar is snared. But I've continued on. I pay no mind, to the minor injuries I receive, while escaping into the tunnels.

Feral ghouls hiss at me, but they don't swipe or attack. They smell it on me, and even if they did attack, I wouldn't bother to shoot them. I have no time for this. No time at all. For all I know, Dezbe has already gone and left. A plaque for Charon, that she's going to put at Underworld. It's either Underworld or Megaton, and I'm hoping to anyone who'll listen to the prayers of a single being, that it's Megaton. You see if she went there, then she hasn't yet breached the city. If I can get to the city, and find out she's in Megaton or simply just left, then there's time. Time to stop her and intervene on her suicide mission. Because if she went to Megaton, she _has_ to cut through the city, and that's where I'll be, waiting for her.

My heart pumps as my body begs me to slow down. Of course I haven't been running or sprinting this whole time, but kept a steady quick pace when I couldn't breathe much after running. I've passed Wasteland wanderers, who've looked at me and I see what they're thinking on their face. I'm a man on a mission. I have to get there, find her. I have to stop her. There's no way she can do this. No possible way, I'm going to stand and allow for this to happen. I navigate the underground tunnels, knowing them now like the back of my hand. I allow my body to slow to a quick walk, so that way if I run into trouble at the mall I'll be able to perform. I won't let myself think and believe, that she's gone. That she's somehow within a day found where the Brotherhood are stationed and have already met her maker.

Angrily, I yell into the tunnel. It's dark and hard for me to see, but I know where I am. The thought, of those men taking her life from her, sends such rage through my veins I can't control it. I punch a wall, my knuckles cracking and skin breaking. In the dim light, I see a flake of my skin lifting up. Without thinking I rip it off. Bigsley warned me of this. He warned me, and I'm not heeding it. It doesn't matter now. I don't care. I did this, went through excruciating pain, to save her. It'll become clear to her, to everyone, later. Everything I have done within these past three weeks, will be revealed and hopefully, will be understood.

I light a cigarette as I pace. Pace towards the end of this tunnel, pace towards the outskirts of the mall. My mind is moving faster than my body, it's hard to properly express all these things at once. I have to get to her. I have to find her. I have to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life so far. If by some chance, I fail in getting there in time, then…

The thoughts cause my pace to quicken ever so slightly. I know I'm getting closer and closer to where I need to be, I can feel it. Feral ghouls run rampant, and it amazes me. With the lack of radiation, I would think these ghouls wouldn't be here. That perhaps they'd thin out. It seems though, there's more here now than there was before. Before, when the radiation was in abundance. Is there some form of counter effect going on? Ghouls do not _need_ radiation to survive, yet it comes in handy to their lives. Like if Dez is wounded, she would find radiation, but she does not need it to live. The same works for ghouls. It turns you into a ghoul, radiation, and with their flocking of new ones, I can't figure out how it would be possible.

Wouldn't ghouls continue to be a dying race? The first and last of their kind? There's so many down here now, I can't think of how this came to be. Sterile means there's no chance of breeding, but perhaps…perhaps _feral_ ghouls can breed. Evolution, perhaps? There is a chance that could happen, even though it is a small one. I can't imagine witnessing a Feral being motherly and nurturing, though. There are firsts for everything, yet I don't believe that first has happened.

I emerge from the tunnel to the large lobby that exits to the mall. People, pre-war, would stand here and wait to board the bullet trains and subways. Women would hold the hands of children, husbands and men would chatter inside the phone bells, and children would laugh and cry at whatever was going on, in their small realm of reality. Once, this place was packed with people, breathing space was scarce, and if you weren't careful you'd lose your luggage by mistake or on purpose. To witness it now, vast and empty as it all is, destroyed by the bombs that fell so many years ago, is frightening. No time soon, will the world restore itself to that glory. Despite, what others may truly believe.

I realize I've stopped to stare in marvel, at the sight I've seen millions of times before. I suppose only now it hits me. Now, even though it's been in front of me this whole entire time. This world is different, and what's left needs to be left alone. I hope the Brotherhood realizes this in time. If not, I fear the world, and all of its inhabitants, will be wiped out. I can't tell you how, but I can tell you, tampering with the natural advancement of everything will set this world back. Set it back, to when it was nothing but a small, floating rock, among millions and millions of galaxies.

I skip steps as I jog up the escalator. I pay no mind, to the Feral Ghouls that hiss at one another, and hiss at me. They return to eating once they smell and I pass them. What they're eating I don't care to know. I wonder, how many of these ferals were once loved ones. Were once people and prominent members of society, who had families, and who had friends. People now forget that. They're nothing more than target practice and I'll be the first to admit it, but, I also realize whenever I shoot one, that this ghoul was once a person. The ragged remains of clothing they wear, armor, wanderer gear, no matter what, is what they have left of their former selves.

Emerging from the subway, I climb the steps there. Familiar noises from a distance tells me there's Super Mutants in the area. I have my gun loaded, but I'm not worried. If the ghouls below didn't attack, then they won't either. I walk past the Super Mutant nest, hearing their broken English, hearing them quibble at me.

"He is human!"

"He is not!"

"Yes! I see him!"

"Don't attack there's more! There is more!"

They argue on whether or not to attack me, and I walk past them. Their chance is lost, as I slip through the doors to the Museum of History, closing it tightly behind. I look around, pausing for a minute just as I did in the lobby underground. It's the same, but it is different. My breath begins to steady, as my eyes trail on the coats on dust along the desk, at the dulled marble that once shone and sparkled. An overwhelming sense of sadness fills me, as I look ahead at the ruins of Underworld. Demolished, without a second thought. Just as this world was, just as everything that once stood tall, is now nothing but small pebbles of trash that get in the way of mindless walking. I know now, that a step forward will prove if I've made it in time or not.

Lifting my boot, I take that first step. Heavy, thudding, it echoes fiercely among the quiet. Fear sets in, as I stare at the walls to my left and my right. Anywhere, I want to look anywhere, except in front of me. She'd look me in the eyes, so long ago, and beg me. Beg me to stay, as her hand wrapped around the leg of my pants. Her soft voice, broke my heart. Broke whatever emotions I had built against her, as her small and frail hand would cling to me, as if I was her source of life. She's vanish into the night, and arrive much later, dancing…dancing into my life. Dancing into the camp. She'd come back, she'd always come back.

I bump something with my shin. It startles me, and I look down. Nothing more, than a dead Super Mutant. Killed, by a vital shot to the head. Nothing remains of his head, actually. A Hunting Rifle is a few feet away from him, and I suspect that was his weapon. What killed him? I feel scared to find out. My eyes follow the blood that seeped from his dead body. It's been two days, since I departed from Dez and Raul. Two days, for this blood to set. Two days, for me to find what I set out to find. I haven't slept, I haven't eaten, I just kept walking. My eyes wander to find another figure. No.

I rush to it, a long stride away from the Super Mutant. She lays, her eyes cold, with dried blood surrounding her. Small hands hold her stomach gently, they're caked in blood. Caked brown, since it's dried. I feel my body shake, as I bend down and rest on my knees. Shaking hands, I notice, as I touch her body. Cold. I jerk them away, this fright so immense. I've never felt something this way before. Never felt the true intensity of emotion like this. I turn around, giving my back to the lifeless body before me, and lost the contents of my stomach on the marbled floor.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, skin comes off from the scrape on my cheek. I don't want to turn around, but I know I have to. Her face, her head, is turned away from me. I can't see the expression that's set on it, and I'm not sure if I want to. Her short-cut orange, red and brown hair is matted down with blood. I swore to her I'd never let anything happen. I swore and uttered those long forgotten promises. I did, and I failed at them. My shoulders fall forward, my hands tug mercilessly at my hair. I wail, because I do not know what else to do. Spit and snot mixes on my face, as tears flow down.

"No!"

I pound the heavy floor with my balled up fists. All I did. Everything. For nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. The vibration of my fists hitting the ground is so close to her, it makes her arm fall. Her perfect, small hand hits the marble with a soft 'thud', showing me the extent of her injury. So minor. So unimportant. There's radiation just outside, why would she allow this? Allow this to be the end to her? It doesn't make sense. She was so strong, so driven, what could have caused this? My eyes snap wide, suddenly, with the reality that hits me.

"You can't stay here."

I say to her, half expecting a response. There is none, and I'm scared to touch her. Scared to lift her in my arms and take her away from this place. She won't be laid to rest here. When my hands touch her skin, the coldness of it frightens me. I almost have to turn away again, but I hold it back. Hold it down, as I shift her light body into my arms. Her limbs dangle, lifeless, as the caked on blood cracks and peels with the movement. I stare at her face as I stand, her body forming in my arms. She looks like she's sleeping. Like she's only taking a quick nap, and in a few hours she'll wake up again.

I start to hyperventilate, as it all settles on my shoulders. As the weight of reality falls around my body. I lift her up to my face, burying my head in her neck, and wailing and crying the same way she did. My cries echo out into the halls, around the foyer, as I try to muffle them within her. Her feet hit together, as I feel a warm breeze touch my forehead.

"Dez?"

I say, softly, my head still buried. I feel the breeze again, soft, hardly there, but I feel it. Quickly, I regain myself and set her back down. Hope, want, fills my chest with immense ease. I place a hand over her exposed chest, the flimsy top only covering her breast.

"Dez…"

I sigh, and feel a very, very faint heartbeat.

"Ha! Ha!"

Joy and indescribable happiness fills me faster than it's ever done before. I can't stop my cheers, as I scoop her up. Time isn't on my side right now, but she's _alive_. Her heart, just barely hanging in there. Just barely holding on. It's reversible. It can be fixed, and there's hope. It's all I want now. Hope, and it's all I have.

Kicking open the doors to the museum, I run to the small tide pool of water. Water, that I _know_ is irradiated. It's been set for so long, with no way for it to travel in or out. It's the most highly irradiated thing I've passed on my way here. I'm so quick to get to it, I don't notice anything else. I don't care to, and I ignore Bigsley's voice in my head as I plunge into the knee-deep if less, water.

"It's okay…"

I whisper, wiping blood from her face with my hand as I kneel down. I dip her in the radiation, gently, keeping one arm on her back. It warms me, the water. Keeping my eyes set on her face, I watch for any signs of life, for any signs of movement.

"I'm here now, it's all going to be okay."

I tell her, kissing the top of her head. My hair brushes my eyes, and I press our foreheads together and clasp her hand in mine. My waist and down begins to burn, but I don't care. I refuse to move. Wrapped in my hand, her fingers begin to twitch. Her chest, slowly begins to extend and drop, the signs of breathing making themselves more and more prominent. Beneath the water, as it ripples around us, I feel each movement that she makes. Carefully, her body returns to a moveable state of life. My hand on her back helps support her, helps keep her head from going under. Excited, I wait for her to open her eyes.

"…huhhhh…"

A noise escapes from her lips, as her throat vibrates. How close was she? As close as I once was? Maybe even more.

"Dezbe? Dez?"

I say, letting go of her hand to run my thumb over her brow. Her eyelids flutter, but they don't open. I hold back from kissing her, keeping the desire in check, because I can't risk holding back her breath from her. She takes in deep breaths, slowly, calm, with ease and with great difficulty. I can't see her wound through the murky water. I don't want to think of it, because I know why she let this happen.

"Can you hear me?"

With a long, deep breath, Dez comes back to life in my arms. She opens her eyes, jerking forward. Unexpectedly, but expected from her, she balls her hand into a fist and makes a swift connection with my cheek. It topples me back, and I nearly hit my head on the side of the tide pool, but I don't. It doesn't even hurt, as I open my eyes and look at her. Nothing hurts, not even the radiation, when I see her standing there.

"Who the fuck are you?"

She demands, reaching for the combat knife at her side. I feel the blade against my neck, and I react. But I react in a way, she didn't expect. I'm just to thrilled to see her, so happy to have her in my life again, that I tackle her over and we fall into the shallow water. I hold her close to me, pressing my face to the top of her head, pressing her head into me with my hands. I never want to let her go.

"Stop it! Stop it!"

She beats me with her fists until I let go. When I loosen my grip just a bit, Dez jumps back out of the water, she's seething mad. Angry tears, pour down her wet face as she looks around. Calmly I step out of the water in front of her. I feel skin on my hands fading and peeling away. I don't bother to pick at it.

"Who _are_ you?"

She seethes, her hands opening and closing from palm to fist. I'm calm, though, because I know.

"You like it?"

I ask, smirking and shaking my hair. Dezbe's mouth twitches, anger and rage flash within her eyes.

"Why did you _do_ this?"

"Do what?"

"Bring me in the water!"

She lunges at me, driven by confusion, fear, anger and rage. I grab her in my arms, the curves of her body making me smile to myself.

"Because if I let you die, I would have broken a promise. I can't do that, you know."

Her eyes grow wide with anger, as she takes a step back.

"…Who are you?"

"It's me…it's me…look, look at me look!"

I say with pride, but that pride quickly vanishes, when I realize she doesn't recognize me. She steps back, nervous and afraid. I reach out to her.

"Dezbe, no, look it's me."

She shakes her head, looking around, the poster child for lost children.

"It's me, Dez. It's Charon."

A swift punch in the same spot to my face renders me quite confused. I hold my hand over it, as her eyes fill with water.

"You're a _monster_!"

She screams, bellowing it like it's her call. What have I done?

"What?"

It's all I can think to say. All I can think, that comes to mind.

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you! Haven't you taken enough from me? Wasn't taking him enough? Wasn't taking my father and my mother and _every_thing enough?"

The knife shines in her hands and I know I'm in danger.

"Dez what are you _talking_ about?"

"I recognize that voice even without that helmet! You Brotherhood scum! You lie! You…you…_fucking monster_!"

My voice. My voice…it's not guttural. There is no more ghoul undertone to it. I never thought of it like that. Never let such a minor detail, get in the way of the bigger picture. She doesn't attack me with the knife, but stands there with it clenched in her hand. Her eyes burn into me, and I wonder, did I do some drastic mistake?

After Dezbe ran for The Pitt, Bigsley was taken away. The radiation was little, but enough to keep me alive. Just on the cusp of living, and of dead. I could hear everything around me, I took shallow breaths, but I couldn't move. Couldn't speak, couldn't do anything. It was ages, it felt like, before Bigsley came back. He loomed over me, as I laid in a forced motionless way. I'm not sure what he injected into me, but I was able to move after the prick of a needle. I never asked what it was.

But after I was able to stand, and clear my mind, Bigsley made me an offer I couldn't refuse. It was either return to Dezbe in The Pitt, and live as wanted criminals, or continue the lie that the convinced the Brotherhood of. That she was dead somewhere, hit by a stray and lucky bullet. To protect her, I chose to keep the lie. But Bigsley also offered an alternative. Disguise myself as an Initiate, and protect her from afar. I underwent an experimental study, that Doc Barrows and Nurse Graves had concocted. Bigsley, went to them for help, as we trudged through to Rivet City. They injected me with so many different things, I was scared I would die. The pain…the pain was torture, worse than I've ever felt before. But the end result, was worth it.

Avoiding radiation, would mean my safety. I could continue to take this human body and make it my own, so long as I stayed from the irradiated areas. But I didn't listen, and no one knew what would happen if I didn't. I stood today, knee-deep in it, to save the woman I've been sworn to protect since the year 2277. It burns, a searing pain, but I can ignore it. I can ignore it, and think about how much of a true monster I've become. Did I cheat death to save her, and become this to protect her? Was I thinking of her, or what it was I felt she wanted? The choice to become human once again, to be with her and worthy of her as a human, wasn't even thought about. Before Bigsley had even finished asking, my mind was made. But I never thought…if it was what Dezbe wanted. Only, what I thought she did.

"I'm not lying."

I tell her, forcing back the memories of the pain I went through, as needles and tubing ran in and out of my body.

"You are. Charon's dead. I watched him die."

"I didn't die, Dez. There was enough radiation there, to keep me alive."

"He wasn't human, Unn. You're human. I'm not fucking stupid."

To prove something to her, I show her my hands. With my nails, I scratch away at the skin, and when I can grip a piece, I rip it off. It doesn't hurt.

"Does this prove it?"

She raises an eyebrow, folding her arms as she sheaths the knife. It's my knife.

"It just proved to me that you're turning into a ghoul. You should have left me to die there. You wouldn't be ghoulified now, would you?"

With no weapon aside from her knife, Dezbe turns to walk away from me. Stunned, all I can do for the moment is stand there, until I hear her voice calling back to me.

"You need to come with me, you know. Because now, I'm using you as my hostage. I can get more Brotherhood, with an Initiate on my side."

I watch her walk down to the subway. She looks back to see if I'm following. But she doesn't look back to see Charon, she only sees Unn. Unn, is someone I created. He isn't me. I am Charon, and I returned for her. Silently, I follow. She will believe me, sooner or later. I just have to take the time, and prove it.


	29. Right Next to You

(Dez)

I'm so angry. I'm so angry, that I can _taste_ the blood of the Brotherhood Knights and Scribes and _everyone_ I find. How dare they. You can't take anymore from someone whose lose everything, yet they found a way. A way to save me, so close to the sweet release of death, and come back again. As if a fucking…watchamacallit playing with another watchamacallit. Right. Dog playing with a baby Molerat. Teasing me, testing me, seeing how hard they have to push, before they can break me. Newsflash, Brotherhood, you can't. I've survived a bullet to the brain and after that, everything else seems so much more…pitiful. Shoot me? Fine. Kick me? Go ahead. But lie to me, lie about the _one thing_ I hold near and dear to my heart? Oh motherfucker, you had better sleep with one eye open. All they did now, was create an animal. An animal, that Deathclaws cringe at.

As I walk without turning on my Pip-Boy light, I begin to formulate a plan. It'll be better, once I find their base of operations and figure the blueprints our and do the 'waiting and watching' thing, but it'll work. After all, I destroyed both Fort Bannister and the Citadel. Not much else. Oh, toss the Enclave base in that one too.

"Dez?"

Unn's voice echoes ahead into the narrow tunnel system. He walks behind me, keeping a steady and distant pace. He knows.

"What?"

"Perhaps you should rest? You just recovered, you know."

I light a cigarette as I make my feet stop. I never got my gun from the remains of Underworld. I have only Charon's combat knife. It's still a weapon. Turning around, I glare at Unn. Though the light is dim, and the hisses of the ferals are loud, I remain calm. There'll be time to act on this rage later.

"I know how you know."

Unn looks at me, confused. It's not hard, you know. To figure out my life, to know the nitty gritty details of it. After all, aside from the records the Brotherhood keeps, there's always the whole broadcast on GNR I did. It's not hard, to be an imposter.

"How I know what?"

"Charon. How you know his mannerisms, things kept between he and I. I put it out there, I should've known my enemies would use it against me."

"…I'm not an imposter."

"There's no secrets for me to keep. The entire Capital Wasteland, knows my life story. Nothing you can say or do, will make me believe that you are Charon risen from the dead. Dead men don't walk."

"They do, if they're ghouls."

"I see no such ghoul before me."

"If you'd let me explain…"

"I don't want to hear it. Be lucky I didn't kill you back there. Relish the short life you have."

I start walking again, yawning as I do so. You'd think after coming so close to an eternal sleep, one would feel well rested. But, then again, you'd be surprised at a lot of things, too.

"…I am over two-hundred years old, Dezbe. My life, isn't exactly short."

"Shut up."

"I was trained at the Citadel, it was called the Pentagon…"

"I said shut up."

"John was my last employer, before the bombs fell."

"I said _enough_!"

I scream, clenching the filter in my lips. Unn looks at me, and I don't care to hold a long gaze. The look on his face, from the few seconds I cared to stare at him, told me he's hurt. He can hurt all he wants now. It's nothing compared to what I'm planning.

"Don't try to pretend to be Charon, for the Brotherhood's sick and twisted games. I'll play along when we get there."

"I'm not pretending. How many times to I have to _tell_ you? When will you believe me?"

"I won't, because it's not the truth."

We continue on walking, ferals hissing all around. There's a lot of them these days, isn't there? I pay no mind to them, as I go deeper underground. I'm not sure where the Brotherhood is hiding out exactly, and I'm in no great rush. They're going to be here a while. Figure I can play it by ear, and run around with blinders on. When I get sick of doing that, I'll actually sit one night and figure it out. If I find them before then, well, that's just peachy.

"…The Brotherhood think you're dead, Dez. They wouldn't concoct a story and lie so deep, for a dead woman."

"You don't know them, then."

I open a door to my right, and it brings me to a room. It's large, not a closet or anything. Kind of looks like a valve room. You know, where things are run and stuff? It's big enough for Unn and I to rest in, while keeping a good distance away from one another. Plus it's one way in and out, so it's safe, too. I just started walking, but recovering is something I need to do now. Before I could walk miles and miles while injured or in recovery. These days, I need my strength. Preparation for when I find the Brotherhood.

Locking the door as Unn walks in, I throw my cigarette to the floor, and crush it with my boot. My collarbone itches, so I scratch it. Unn slumps against the wall, sitting on the floor. Of all this room in this place, he has to be near me. It's annoying.

"Don't be sad because I'm smart. Be happy that I didn't kill you."

"You know what I find amazing, Dez?"

"What's that?"

"You're extreme ability to survive on your own, yet your childish behavior if you have a protector. It makes me wonder…just how much I mean to you."

"Keep referring to yourself as Charon and you're going to believe it before I do."

"…I wonder if what I did was wrong. Was I being selfish? I used to have dreams, where you and I would be human. Only my hair was short in those dreams. But they'd be the same. Night, after night, I'd wake from the images of you and I in a warm, sunny field. I can't help…but think I did what I did, for my own selfish reasons. Is it always this difficult, when you feel so strongly towards another? Is it so hard, that the word 'love' cannot be summed up in a simple phrase or action, but merely complied of good and bad things, with doubts and insecurities piled up? I've never felt insecure about anything, yet when we kissed and you wanted me in a way no one did before…I felt it. I felt I didn't deserve you. And it broke my heart, to know, you wanted such a being as myself."

I freeze for a minute. Unn stares at the floor in front of him, his blue eyes fixated on the ground. He speaks…for a minute I'll admit, I want to believe him. I want to believe, that he somehow is Charon. That he…rose from the dead just for me. The part that wants to believe it so badly, is also the part that made me need Charon, when I never needed anyone before. It hurts me inside, to hear words like that, because those are words only your loved one should say. Words…that would mean so much…coming from Charon's lips.

"Just be quiet."

I mutter, almost whispering. Unn ignores me, his eyes still set, his body looking sad and defeated. I almost…feel bad, as I sit on the far end of the room.

"I knew I loved you, or at least…at least had such a strong feeling of protection for you…when you clung to me. The night we returned to Megaton after the death of your father…the way you needed me…the way you hung to my shirt and begged me not to leave, even if I was going to another room. It broke my heart, but it established and assured…that you were no longer just my employer. I wanted…I wanted to take that pain from you. Wanted so badly, to make it so you'd never hurt that way again. Each time after that I failed, I wanted nothing more, than to take it all back."

I stare at him, at the water building in his eyes.

"Learning….learning emotions as I did…was difficult. But I knew I had to, I knew that despite the contradictions and the misunderstandings and the troubles they caused me externally and internally, it was all worth it. The human nature, the instinct, that was dying to come out drove me to believe that. Drove me, to believe that in some way I had found someone. Someone to also, in turn, care for me. You'd nurture my petty wounds like you were handling a delicate glass. Nothing, was too big or small, for you to care about with me. I wanted to learn to feel what you felt, so badly, so then perhaps, maybe, I could feel a bit more deserving of you. Of this being, who was so wild, confusing, carefree and lost. This woman, girl at the time, who…who couldn't have been stranger, but cared for me. I wanted to return those feelings, but I didn't know how. And for that delay I'm sorry. I am, truly, utterly, sorry Dezbe."

As I clear the tears from my eyes, I begin to loudly clap my hands. I won't let Unn know, that his interpretation of Charon's inner mind workings was almost dead-on, and was quite convincing. To the point of me nearly believing it. If he knew that, he'd abuse it, and then…then whose to say I wouldn't wake up, believing it was Charon?

"I give that act a round of applause."

Unn looks at me, his eyes defeated, his entire spirit lost. If he was truly Charon, I'd never be so cruel. I'd embrace those words, that confession of sorts, and kiss away all the pain that caused them. But he's not Charon. And Unn doesn't deserve that.

"I must say you've done your research. Thespians all over would be quite proud, but not fooled."

"…It's fine if you don't believe me, but don't mock me."

I figure I'll test his knowledge of the adventures of Charon and Dezbe.

"I'll play your game while we sit here, Unn. It's a question game, okay? I'll ask the questions, you give me answers. Fair enough?"

Unn nods, taking the sweatband off of his head.

"Alright…what _didn't_ I report to GNR…let's see…"

I tap my chin as I pretend to be deep in thought. In a sense I am, because I'm slightly intrigues. Those blue eyes, there's something there, but I can't quite place it. I'd have to ask him questions only Charon would know, but questions that I could quickly find the answer to. Difficult for him, yet easy for me.

"What's Gob's real name?"

Unn smirks at me, challenging me.

"That's easy. Gobtholomew."

I laugh at hearing it again, the joy it brings. I miss him, so maybe a pit-stop is in order.

"Yeah that is easy. You could have found that out from anyone in Underworld. Alright…let me think here…"

As I think, letting a cynically playful smirk crawl across my face, I feel those blue eyes on me. I'm not looking at him, but I feel them. I feel those eyes, those blue, blue eyes, and I can't help, but look.

"…I came back, didn't I?"

His stare is deathly cold, and when the words fall from his lips, my eyes grow wide with shock. My heart beats, badum, badum…in my chest. I stare at him, the words leaving me, my thoughts, leaving me. A long time ago, I said those same words to Charon. It's funny, how memories can be fuzzy in your day by day life, but when something you hear peaks your interest, or something from your past is slightly mentioned, it's all clear. It's clear, like fresh water in a glass cup. I don't know, anymore, what to say. I don't know what to say, because I don't know, what to believe.

"…Yeah…I guess you did now, huh?"

Pulling my knees to my chin, I rest my head in them. I stare away from Unn or Charon or…or whoever he is. Looking at him…will be too hard. He could be Unn, the Brotherhood imposter loser-face…or, on some miracle, he could be Charon. Embodied into his human self, Charon may have come back for me. Just as I…returned for him. Years ago. I went back, to Fort Bannister, and raised hell in the name of one man. The one man who I loved enough, to risk my life for that night. Closing my eyes, I wish I still had my long hair to hide behind. Wish I could pull a hood over my head, and forever hide in it. I'm not sure what to do now. What I should do, and what I want to do, are two very different things. It's amazing, how just a reminder of something so insignificant, can change everything you ever thought was real. At least…at least that's how it is for me.

"You're quiet."

My empty eyes shift over to him. It's been a while now, since Charon died in front of me. I wonder, if it's okay, to feel this numb still. If it's normal, to feel so tired of caring, that you simply don't anymore. I can't tell you what's normal, and what isn't anymore. All that's happened to me, defies logic and sensibility. I wish I could, though. I truly, truly, do.

"What do I call you?"

My voice is a whisper, as if all the energy has been drained from me. Imagine, being in my shoes right now. I think, wish all the recent and past events of my life, that this is how I deal. I just shut down. Go into a dazed state, where I'm so numb a bullet wound would take a bit to register. Where seeing Charon's face, would take minutes to create a smile. Is it selfish of me? Has everything I've done, been selfish? There are so many things, that I just don't know.

"Whatever you want to call me, but I am Charon."

"…Please…stop saying that."

I wipe tears from my eyes, as I force sobs to stifle themselves. I can play games for so long, before I break. Telling me the one I loved most is back from that dead, that he's with me now, is a cruel and petty thing to do. The Brotherhood, while they sit back and laugh at this, don't know how much it truly hurts. They don't know, how right now I'm curled into a ball, with no real weapons, crying somewhere in the tunnels. No one knows this, except the nameless man before me. I'm sure, though, if they did, they still wouldn't take pity. Pity, on the girl whose lost everything. There's nothing, that they can take now.

Whimpering to myself, I feel strong arms surround me. They scoop me up, holding me to their chest, legs wrapping around as if…as if they're trying to shield me. Looking up through teary eyes, I see Unn and his dark red hair. It brushes my face, as he cranes his head down, and rests it in the crook of my neck. The warmth from his body is immense. The powerful feel of his arms around me, keeping me condensed and safe, is the same feel of Charon's. For a minute, as I close my eyes, I pretend it is. Pretend that the shirt I press my face into is faded black, and the fabric of it is stretched from nights where I've held it just as tight as I am now. I pretend, that with each deep breath I take, I inhale the old smell of his leather armor.

"I will keep you safe, I promise. Even…from yourself. Trust me."

He says in my ear, as his hands dig around my shoulders, fingers gripping at the flimsy straps that make a top. His hands are warm on my back, and accidentally they graze all of my scars. Not all, but those there, those within touching range. Those…received many times, in front of Charon himself. Quietly, I sob in his shirt, on his chest, as we sit together. Embracing like this, is no more than a comfort. A comfort I thought that I had received when Raul was with me. It's not the same. It's stronger. Such a feeling shouldn't even exist. This feeling, was only given to me in the past, by one and only Charon. For the moment, even if it isn't real, I'm thankful for it. Inside my heart, I hear it beating, and a small hope fills it. A small hope, that maybe, somewhere, Charon is still with me. That he's wandering the Wasteland, looking for me, just as I've always been looking for him.

Lifting my head, I feel this strange man lift his. Our eyes meet, his light blue, ice-like eyes peering into mine. So badly, I want to believe him. I want to believe, with all my soul and body, that this is Charon. Because…because when I think of Charon, I don't feel alone anymore. All the pain in the world, is nothing, when Charon and I are with one another. If he was a drug…I'd be a junkie.

"Dez…"

His hand reaches, to brush hair away that isn't there. A sad smile crosses his face, as his fingers curl. A soft knuckle brushes my cheekbone. A tear rolls down my cheek as I stare at him. That look…seems so familiar. Scared, frightened, nervous, I lift my own hand. I let go of the fabric of his shirt, and place it on his cheek. So…so soft. My thumb touches his nose, something Charon didn't have, and I bite my lip. I begin to quiver, as the anticipation fills me. I want to kiss him, and I can't tell you why.

"I…don't…"

I mutter, still looking into his eyes, still examining him in every microscopic way. When you're so lonesome…when you're so…scared…you rely on such small things. When they're gone, is when you realize, how important they were to you.

"You don't have to believe me, Dezbe. I'll do all I can, to show you."

"But…"

"I want to show you."

I smile. I smile, because his eyes just got brighter. Maybe…maybe this person before me isn't a Brotherhood spy. Maybe, he somehow…really is Charon. I can't put my heart into it like the child in me wants to, but hope…hope isn't bad. There's been stranger things, that have happened to me.


	30. You Won't Be Alone, I'm Beside You

Leaving the room, I don't look at him. I'm not mad, I can't be mad. Just simply…lost I suppose. Lost and mundane, in my own mind and thoughts. He wants to show me, somehow, that he is the man he claims to be. It's impossible to show me you're anything like Charon, unless you are him. If he succeeds in somehow…somehow manning up to that status, then I'll rejoice. Anyone, who isn't Charon, but can still do those things he did, is Charon to me. Especially now, that he's gone. Gone forever, I'm not sure, but gone for the moment, really.

I don't want to speak, so I lead and keep my head down. Behind me, I count the paces and pauses between our walking feet. It's a rhythm, and it's the same sound as it was before. The same sound, as when Charon and I would walk together. I'm not curious, about what happened to Raul and Jackie. I know Raul is good with a gun, he's old enough to know common sense counts out here. He's safe, and I take comfort in that. Jackie…well, I just hope she finds her way home. It won't bother me, if she dies out here or not, but it will be a bit saddening. She didn't do much, aside from annoy me, and that doesn't constitute death. If it did, I'd be the only one left. Even then I'd probably be dead like everyone else. Maybe I'll return to The Pitt one day. Maybe I'll go back and see everyone again, and be greeted by warm smiles, and good food.

I still haven't decided, if I'm going to attack the Brotherhood base, if and when I find it. Events that just took place, the tender embrace between this man and I, have clouded my thinking. Comfort, when comfort was needed, often softens anger. If he is Charon, then I'll give him a chance. A chance to prove himself, a chance to convince me beyond a reasonable doubt he is. I know it sounds crazy, doesn't it? A girl should know, who someone is, especially if it's someone she loved so much, just by looking in their eyes. But this isn't a fairy tale. There's doubt and uncertainty, since my life is so widely known. There's enemies who by now know of Charon's death, and will use that against me. I have to be on my toes, I have to protect myself. If I fell for every imposter that came my way, I would have been dead before escaping the vault. It's not because I never loved Charon, it's only because I do love him, that I want to figure this out on my own. He won't have to take a bullet for me, but I know in time, if he is who he says he is, something will reveal that to me. That's, what I take comfort in.

Going to attack the Brotherhood right now, wouldn't be smart. Basing it on if this is Charon, I would be dying for no reason. At least, I have to give him some time, before I go off and do that. Maybe during that time, too, something good will happen. Like a disease that only hurts Initiates, Knights, and Scribes. Wait. Scribes.

"Bigsley."

I say, stopping short and turning around. Unn, I'll just call him that for now, looks up at me.

"What about Bigsley?"

"We have to speak with him. _I_ have to speak with him."

"What? Why?"

"Because, if you're who you say you are, then Bigsley will prove it to me."

"You would believe him?"

I give a smirk, and scratch the back of my head.

"He knows better, than to lie to me. Plus, he owes me. I let him live. A life for a life, right?"

Unn wants to say something, but he bites his tongue and nods.

"Where is he? Do you know?"

"Rivet City was the last time I saw him. He could still be there, or in the Jefferson Memorial."

I nod, pulling up my Pip-Boy map.

"Then let's go to Rivet City, since I think we're closer to that. Either way they're right next to each other, so whatever we come to first, I guess."

"You're walking into the Brotherhood, when you're wanted by them."

"They think I'm dead, right? They won't look twice. Plus I cut my hair."

"Dezbe, you're a very distinguishable person. They'll notice. Let's walk to Rivet City, and plan this out as we go."

I sigh, feeling put-down by my lack of planning, but I oblige. It seems, Unn, that you're becoming a voice of reason. It doesn't bother me, because I know that I need one. It's been a while, since I've had one, though.

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right. You do know that Rivet City is teeming with Brotherhood though, right?"

Unn raises an eyebrow at me. I guess he didn't know.

"What's the Brotherhood there for?"

I shrug my shoulders, yawning and scratching my head. I feel like I just woke up for some reason.

"Beats me. I just know they're there."

"How? You've been laying in Underworld for almost two days. How do you know they're there?"

I look at Unn. He stares at me, defiant. Why am I so mad at him? He's simply asking a question, there's nothing really wrong with that, is there? It makes me mad for some reason. Not mad enough to start throwing shit, but a few levels above 'slightly annoyed'.

"Word of mouth, Unn."

It's true, too. I did hear that the Brotherhood were hanging around Rivet City. Either way that's no shock to me, since the whole fresh water thing. It's become sort of a commodity to hang around Rivet City, after all it is the safest place in all the Capital Wasteland.

Since we're not walking right now, a temporary stop in the tunnels, I take the time to look around. A small smile, creeps over my face at the feel of nostalgia washing over me. I've walked these tunnels, so many times before. Glancing down, I look at my hands. A moment of silence, in this world where noise is a constant. A constant, like Charon once was.

"Are you alright?"

Unn's voice breaks my moment of concentration, my moment of silence. Strangely, though, I'm not bothered by me. I can't tell you why, but maybe with some thinking, I can.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, and make a camp. If we go anywhere, we want to be rested, right?"

Unn nods and we start walking again. Our feet sift through old debris, as we make our way towards a lobby. I don't care, really, where this lobby leads out to. Today has been a strange day, one that requires a lot of thinking about. New doors are waiting to be opened, and my fate rests in which number I choose. I can still go to the Brotherhood. I can still find them, maybe tomorrow even, and go out there risking my neck. Or I can wait. Wait and see if this person following so close behind is who he claims to be. Either way, there's going to be a lot of pain. Pain physically, and emotionally. Imagine being told your loved one, isn't really dead. It's a shock to say the least, and over a time it's even a good thing. But while you're dealing with all those good emotions, there's still the bad ones. The ones that build you with doubt and anger. Anger, as you ask them why they left. Why they didn't come back sooner, and where they've been all this time. Just as you're coming to terms with them being gone, they barge back into your life. Until it happens to you, you can't quite fully understand it. It's a bittersweet moment, and I'm not sure if there's a sweet part to mine yet.

"We have to get you a weapon."

Unn tells me as we carefully climb up a set of stairs that's covered in planks of wood. The only enemies here are the Feral Ghouls, and they're not much of a threat. It's no use to waste time and energy on them.

"Tomorrow. I…I'm tired."

We reach the top of the platform, and I begin to lead him out. I could check where we are, by opening my Pip-Boy, but I don't feel like it. All that keeps flashing in my mind, is Charon. The memory of him dying before me, and all the pain and hurt I felt at that point. Is it also wrong and selfish of me, to say that while he was there and I was watching this unfold, I felt angry? Not at the Outcast who killed him, or the Brotherhood, but at him. Him, for being so…so stupid. Maybe stupid isn't the best word, but I was enraged. That you know, he was leaving me like that. Alone, after I'd become so accustomed to him being there, to his presence always bringing me comfort, and all the times I could depend on him. Who was he to die on me? What had he done so amazing, that constituted him to be allowed to die? It's always been me, who's wanted to die and not continue on, but here's Charon, doing it for me. Getting the sweet release of death all on his own, when every time I've tried, someone's prevented it. Is it wrong to say…that I was a bit jealous of him?

Emerging into the light, I take the lock off of the chain-link fence. Unn is still behind me, and I hear him putting the lock back on. I think I'm the only person in the world who does that. I guess it's just to keep the stupid Super Mutants out of the tunnels, so I don't have to fight my way every time I want to travel somewhere. Sometimes, I miss going over the piles of rubble.

"Where do you want to rest?"

Unn asks as we come to the top of the steps. Looking around, I notice we're at Seward Square. I can recognize things now, without the use of my Pip-Boy. Eons ago, there was Super Mutants everywhere in this place. Now…it's just desolate and empty. Barren, and against the soon-to-set sun, it feels depressing. Has everything changed so much, in just such a little time? I walk, with Unn following behind me. He doesn't look around like a child curious, he just follows me, ever quiet, ever obedient. I lead him beneath a small overpass, and there's a room. I've been in this room before. On my way to New Vegas, I wanted to get one last look around the city that I'd spent so much time in. This room, was one of the places I'd hid in. There's not much inside, there used to be when I was here. I can figure, though, before even opening the door, that there's not much now.

I'm right, too. As I turn the knob and let the door swing open, all that's left is a mannequin and a medical table. Nothing else, no useless medical tools, no random gnomes, nothing. At least this room, will prove a safe place to sleep. Last time I was here, the Super Mutants didn't bother me one bit. I was able to sneak in and wait till they were all sleeping. Even though they crossed in front of this door so many times, their voices ringing through the walls, they never thought to look in. It was all fine and dandy with me. I don't mind being left alone sometimes.

"We'll be safe here?"

I nod to Unn as I hop up on the medical table. It's not comfortable, so I hop back down. We can continue on, to Rivet City and make it there a long time before tomorrow. Even rent a room at Vera's. But…I don't want to just yet. I figure we can do that tomorrow, too. Unn was right, earlier, when he said that I needed rest.

Looking at my belly as I sit on the concrete flood, my fingertips graze the hole in my shirt where the bullet entered. There's a small scar, nothing great or distinguishable about it. I know the exit wound, is far worse. I just can't see it, and right now, I don't want to touch it. Death was so close. I'd never felt more relaxed in my life. I could almost see Charon I swear, while I laid there and let memories of the past substitute for my dreams. Still now, I wish Unn hadn't come to my aid.

"Hey Unn?"

There's no response, and I look around. He's sitting against the far wall, rubbing his hands on his arms. There's only a single light in here, and when I get tired, I'll have him shut them off.

"What?"

He's upset that I'm still calling him Unn. Until I see for myself that he is Charon, though, I'm going to call him whatever I want. I won't soil Charon's name, by calling a complete stranger it.

"How'd you know how to dip me in radiation?"

"What?"

"It's not something that I told over GNR. How did you know?"

It hit me that he knew that just now. If I had gotten wounded in front of Jackie or Raul, they would have shot me up with a stimpack. Although I'm thinking now, Jackie would have just left me to die really. Raul though, he would have tried his best to get me to live.

"Dezbe, I've always known that."

"So the Brotherhood told you then? They know, you know."

"I was hoping you didn't say that. No, they didn't tell me. I've always known since the day you realized it."

He sounds tired and defeated, like proving this to me isn't a big deal to him anymore. It's a big deal to me, though. The chance that he may be Charon, still brings a small glimmer of hope to my bleak existence. I want him to prove it now. I want him, to be the man I thought I lost. So then maybe…maybe I won't feel so guilty.

"Hm. Whatever."  
"Entering the Purifier nearly killed you, do you remember that? With exposure to levels of radiation that severe, you built up an immunity to it. You're everything a ghoul is, except without the lack of flesh."

"Ghouls are no different than humans, Unn."

His arms are missing strips of flesh. One more than the other, and his face is scratched up. I know his legs are pretty bad to, but he should have known not to stand in radiation. If you're not a ghoul or freak like me, it's going to hurt you. Maybe Unn will be a ghoul though, and then we can get along better. It always seems to be I get along better with ghouls.

"Yes they are, Dez."

Lighting a cigarette, I look at Unn's eyes. Against everything else, and putting all aside, they are beautiful.

"Indulge me."

"Ghouls are a bit stronger than humans. I'm naturally strong due to my training, but when I was a ghoul it added that extra 'oomph' I needed in this world. Not only that, but no one else will mess with a ghoul. Kind of like a 'you're a mutant in a way too, so let's not kill one another'. Ghouls seem to be a lot more rational, too. I guess because we've been around longer than humans, and just don't give a fuck anymore."

"I'm not strong and like you said, I'm a ghoul in all but skin."

"But you're immune to radiation, and healed by it. So, in my book, that's a ghoul."

Rolling my eyes I stretch my legs out in front of me. This Pitt Raider gear is pretty light. It's comfortable too, so I'm going to have to take good care of it if I want it to last.

"It's funny how you say 'when I was a ghoul'."

"Because I was."

"Then where's your shotgun and leather armor, oh great wannabe of Charon?"

"Rivet City. Nurse Graves said it was too distinguishable and that they'd keep it there for me."

He hasn't told me yet, this story of how he was supposedly once ghoul and now not.

"I'm going to play along for a minute, alright? How in the world did you reverse the ghoulification process? You never told me."

"You never gave me the chance to."

"I am now."

Unn nods and clears his throat. I get comfortable. This is something I definitely want to hear, true or not.

"I didn't die out there. The radiation wasn't enough to heal me, but it was enough to keep my heart beating. After you left, the Brotherhood came for Bigsley and left my body. I thought…I thought that I was going to be there forever. The radiation, would have kept me alive despite everything else, but I couldn't move. I couldn't heal or get better, simply stay. That's why when Bigsley came back, I was more relieved than worried. He gave me medicine, helped me to my feet. I wanted…I wanted to chase after you. I made that quite clear to him. I can't tell you how much time passed, between when you left and when he came. It was enough time for him to think it over, though.

He told me that chasing you would mean the ultimate end for both of us. That the Brotherhood truly believed me to be dead, and were under the same assumption about you. He told me I could go with you, to The Pitt, and risk being caught or seen, or that I could go with him, and he'd help. I trusted him, because someone who comes back for you, has good intentions.

Bigsley took me to Rivet City. It wasn't easy sneaking me in because I suppose I'm 'distinguishable'. But somehow, the fool did it. He had set it all up with Nurse Graves and Doc Barrows, and the plan was explained. I would undergo an experimental procedure, Doc Barrows' life work really, on the reversal of ghoulification. Bigsley warned me it would be dangerous, the risks were high and it was painful. He said once we started we couldn't stop, and that I could die. It wasn't like I was trapped there, I was given a day to think it over. What made me decide to do it, in the end wasn't you. As scary as it may sound, it wasn't. To…to be human again was always something I wanted. My ghoulification had perks as does everything, and with everything it had vices. It was personal, but now reflecting, it was you who helped me choose.

If I died on the table during the procedure as Bigsley warned, then it wouldn't make a difference. You thought I was dead anyways, and I wanted to at least try. If I survived, which I did, then I could help you. But…I couldn't tell you it was me. Bigsley figured I could dress up as a Brotherhood, and give you an advantage. You picked that up the first night you figured out I was following you. We came up with a fake name, history, and everything needed to be an Initiate. Bigsley entered it all into the Brotherhood records. But I had to leave before the plan was set up. The Brotherhood were getting suspicious of something, and we didn't know if it was us. So I set off to find you.

I didn't intent to get angry, or lie to you as I did. But I know you, Dez, and I know you would have killed me if I claimed to be Charon directly off the bat. Lying low was my way of saving my own skin in a sense. When we parted ways, and Raul showed up without you, I assumed the worse and went to find you. When I found you, I knew I had to tell you. Letting you die for someone, who isn't really dead, isn't a cause worth dying for. Which brings us to where we are now."

I stare at Unn. My heart…it hurts. I can't explain it, really. My eyes, won't leave his face. His story, is completely possible. Doc Barrows secretly had been working on a way to reverse or even cure, the ghoulification that plagued them. I don't know, what to think or say now. Water makes my vision blurred, but I won't let the tears fall. Before they have a chance to form, I wipe them away. It's not because I don't want to let him see me cry, it's because I've cried so much. Is it him? Is it truly, truly him? Charon, is he really sitting across from me? I'm too scared to say. Too scared right now, to believe. But the silence can't last, so I know I have to say something.

"…Did it hurt?"

I point to his skin, hoping he's fooled by my calm disposition. I don't think he is, though.

"Yes. It was excruciating. The worst pain I believe, I've ever felt in my life. My skin had to regrow itself, for lack of a better term. My hair, my body, it all underwent a deep physical change. When you cut yourself, and a scab forms, the scab doesn't hurt, the scar after doesn't hurt. But imagine that scab being something, over the entire being of your body. That…that hurts."

I nod, pretending to understand. Truth is, I don't. If this is the truth, then he's Charon. If not, he's gone to a great extent to cover his tracks. The obvious isn't being presented itself, since I'm naturally wry and cautious of everything out here. Especially now. Outside, the wind hits the door and makes it rattle a bit. Unn and I look over, half-expecting a threat, but nothing comes inside. Night will fall soon, and with night, comes dangers.

"You know, Dez…someday I think…it'll all be alright for us. For you, if anything."

Blinking I look back over at Unn. With nothing to say, I know there's something wrong. Unsheathing my knife, I look carefully at the blade. A lot of work, went into this knife. The care to keep it in pristine condition, the materials needed to make it. The leather that binds the blade to the handle. I stand up, the knife in my hand.

"I'm hungry."

Without any room for argument, I walk past Unn. He watches me for a minute, before standing and taking the SMG from his waist. I hear him load it, and take the safety off. My hand reaches for the knob, but before I turn it, I wonder. Wonder, about this and how it'll turn out. I wonder most of all, if what Unn says is true. About everything being okay one day.

Stepping out, the sun is beginning to set. Half of it is still visible, leaving light but not much. In Seward Square, you have to be cautious. I've never been cautious of anything in the past, until recently. It seems the less I care about things, the more I'm able to simply…well, save myself. I notice Unn looking around, scanning the area in a familiar way. Charon would do that. Look at every possible flora and fauna until he knew it like the back of his hand. That way, if something happened, he knew where to go.

"There's nothing here. There's probably no food unless we look inside."

"Despite recent changes, there are still high dangers in the Capital Wasteland."

"We're in the city, Unn."

"Exactly."

He steps in front of me, walking and leading a way. Maybe his nose is better than mine. I wish we could sleep outside, though. Inside is closed, congested, and uncomfortable. Although it's safe, I don't like it. I prefer a warm fire, the smell of roasting food, a good beer with a cigarette and a friend. Everyone, I think, likes nights like those.

"There's something up ahead…"

I blink but don't listen to Unn's warning. There's a noise, but you can't automatically assume it's an enemy. Well, I suppose out here that's what it is 99% of the time. Like I said, though, I've stopped really caring. But I follow Unn anyways, as he acts cautious and careful. Me on the other hand is crunching and stepping loudly with my boots.

"Can you quiet down?"

"Can you not be so on-edge?"

Unn shakes his head in annoyance, and I do the same.

"It's a few Raiders."

"Well, alright then let's go in, kill them, and take their guns."

"It's a _camp_."

"Food, even better."

Unn and I are hiding behind the corner of an old building. He stares at me, in familiar disbelief.

"You're really not concerned with this, are you?"

"Target practice."

"With what weapon?"

I shrug and look at my nails.

"If you really were Charon, you wouldn't be this cautious. You'd know that I'm always like this."

"I don't think you understand fully, Dezbe. I am _human_ now. I cannot rely on radiation to heal me, nor am I so tough as I was before."

"Trained killer, remember? Oh wait…"

"Unequipped with no medical supplies and flesh replacing leather armor with a side of lack of strength."

"And?"

"And that means I have to plan things now, and not blindly run into things."

Tossing my hands down, I roll my eyes.

"Well, that's you then."

Snatching the SMG I do exactly what Unn was scared of doing. I run blindly into the camp with a battle-cry. The battle-cry is more to prove a point than it is to gain attention. I'm sure the Raiders like the warning, though.

"Get her!"

One of them yells. Taking quick aim, I hold the SMG with two hands and squeeze the trigger. I've never really shot one of these before, so it takes me by surprise. It doesn't kill the Raider running at me, but it does cripple them. Squeezing the trigger again, I go for the knees. It's easier to take them out like that, then to waste time by trying to kill them all while the rest flank you. That's what I've just learned, it's great.

"Dezbe!"

Unn's voice is far behind me, but I can still hear it. I know he's not following me, simply calling me to return. Charon would have followed me. He would have came here and done some hand-to-hand shit like he did before. Unn didn't follow me. He stayed behind, and is watching as I risk my life for some food. The reason is stupid, but when have I ever had a good reason for doing anything?

Another Raider, a girl, comes at me with a sledgehammer. I'm not worried too much about her, she doesn't have a ranged weapon. It's easier for me to take out her legs, than it is to kill her. There's someone shooting with a Hunting Rifle somewhere, and it's them I need to find. I've been grazed twice, I don't want to get hit for real.

Three Raiders in all, two down, one to go. Their angry cries as they lay in pain at their camp falls on deaf ears. Their bungalow has mattresses, is closed off, with a few bunk beds and ammo boxes. But where, oh where, is the ranged shooter? The sound of gunfire gives him away. Without the loudness of my own weapon, and the hoots and hollers of his comrades, it's a bit easier to see. He's in the window of an old building, not in cover or against the wall. I'm not sure how well this gun aims or anything like that, so I make sure to be careful. When I think I have him in my sight, I squeeze the trigger. Smirking, I know I killed him. How? Because his body falls out the broken window and lands with a 'thud' on the ground.

It's too dark now, to look for the gun. I'll let it wait till tomorrow, and off his friends in the meantime. They've been suffering enough, I guess. Having a longer-barreled gun will be easier, and more efficient. As I walk over to finish the job, I see Unn heading my way. Just by his stance I can tell he's not happy. But there's something else up with him too. An object flies through the air. For a minute, I think he tossed me something. I stare at it, as it goes, and things move slowly now.

Out the corner of my eye, I see Unn running full speed at me. Words from the Raiders laying crippled on the floor sound foggy and distant. The object flies through, nearing the ground. By the time I realize it's a grenade, it's too late.

"Get down!"

There's no time to find cover. In my stupidity I lost sight of the big picture. I feel the wind being knocked out of me, as Unn's body collides with mine. He knocks me to the ground, and takes control of my body. I have no time to react, it happens so quickly. He tucks my legs beneath him, as he shields me with his body. Strong, calloused and heavy hands push my head to the ground as his forearms shield me. I feel his head against the back of mine, and even in this dire moment as the grenade explodes, my heart is racing faster and faster.

My ears ring viciously, as dust swirls all around. Slowly, I lift my head as Unn's arms release pressure. A thin film of debris covers his forearms, making the hair on them stand out. His body is heavy on my back, as I take in a deep breath that isn't all air. A mixture really, of dust, debris, and air. Holding back a cough, I turn my head slowly to look at him. His reaction time to that, was ten times faster than anyone else's could have been. Blinking, I watch him lift his head with mine. His face is clean, his eyes, a sparkling beautiful blue.

Concern crosses his face first, before the slight facial twitches that accompany pain. I was his first thought. Me. Not himself, not his own ass, but mine. He had to run past the grenade to cover me. He shielded me, just as it exploded not ten yards away. In this moment, I can't tell you, what it is I'm feeling.

"Dezbe!"

He shouts, my ears still ringing. It makes it sound like I'm underwater. Like we're swimming together, and he's talking to me. I blink at him, as he begins to remove his body from mine. How do I tell him, that I don't want him to move? That for the brief instant he protected me, I'd never felt so safe before? My heart pounds, I can hear it clearer than I can my surroundings. Unn rolls off of me, and I sit up using my hands. The SMG was thrown in the commotion, but I'm not concerned with that. With the world coming back, I reach for him.

"Are you okay?"

I say with eagerness, with divine and positive concern. Overhead, clouds make a thunderous boom. Unn breathes heavy.

"I _told_ you to not do that!"

He hisses, closing his eyes in pain. He's hurt, but I don't know how bad.

"Listen to me! Listen don't you die! Give me a minute!"

I get up and quickly begin to scan the area. Droplets of rain hit the top of my head, as I look for a first aid kit. Tonight, it will rain down on the Capital Wasteland. I find one on a shelf not too far away at all, and I run for it. I'm in perfect health. Unn made that possible.

Grabbing the kit, I go back to him and kneel down. It's been so long since I've cared for a wound, but I know what I'm doing.

"Where are you hurt?"

There's two stimpacks, some gauze, and Med-X inside the kit. I got lucky with that.

"Why didn't you _listen_ to me?"

"Shut up! Where are you hurt?"

Unn says nothing, but he rolls to his side. His back…the white shirt is ripped and torn, stained with blood. I know what I have, isn't meant for injuries of this degree. But I'm the daughter of a doctor, and I know how to improvise. A sleeping mat is over near the bunks. As Unn rests on his stomach, I walk over and grab it. Using the knife, I slice it into ribbons. Taking a handful, I return to Unn.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up."

Let me work. Let me be the genius and do what I do best. Let me be a woman, and care and nurture. The rain comes down as a gentle sprinkle, as I bite open the Med-X needle. Letting it soak into the ribbons of sleeping mat, I lift up Unn's shirt. He's burned, but not too badly. He's cut and bleeding, but it's nothing I can't fix. My hands can't work fast enough, as a small amount of Med-X travels a long way. I pat his back with the soaked fabric, the rain helping to clean.

"This is going to hurt."

"It already does!"

I smirk at his response, and take the stimpack. Biting off the tip I stab the center of his back with it. Next, before the rain can wet it, I begin to place gauze on him. He groans in pain, but doesn't try to stop me. As the rain gets harder, I finish. It's not the best, but he'll survive.

"Let's go back in the room."

I say, still kneeling, my hands on my thighs. Unn sits up, painfully, but he sits up. Rain hits us, coming down lighter than it did the first time, but still heavy. We're wet, but not drenched. Through the hazy rain and night, I look at Unn, and he looks at me. There's a calm disposition on his face.

"You didn't want me to die."

He says, a bit of sarcasm in his words.

"Yeah well, I need you. You're getting me into the Brotherhood."

As I'm about to stand up, Unn grabs my wrist and pulls me back down. His eyes stare into mine, defiant and persistent.

"You don't have to be scared. This isn't a trick."

Before I can open my mouth to argue, his lips are pressed against mine. My senses go into overload. I kneel before him, my hands finding the familiar area around his shoulders, my fingers entangling into unfamiliar hair. His scent, his taste, his touch, it's all the same. You can't lie about scents. About smells and taste. He tastes the same as Charon did, as our lips move against the rain. His smell, only describable as simply 'Charon', like a rare perfume selling for a cheap price. I can feel his strong hands on my back, holding me in place, but would let me go if I wanted to leave.

I'm cold from the rain, but the action taking place, warms me. It sets fire, to the deepest parts of my body. With my eyes closed, the image of Charon as a ghoul is burned into my mind. If he had kissed me, when I was passed out, I would have believed beyond a doubt that he was Charon. No one, can kiss me like this, and not be him.

As we pull apart, I'm glad the tears that were running down my face were able to mix with the water. Looking into the crystal blue eyes in front of me, I take close examination. His words, ring true in my mind. _I had medium beige skin, a shade lighter than you I believe, if you were not tanned from the sun. I had dark red hair, and it was thick, and it was long when the war happened_. In front of me, sits a man with eyes the color of Charon's. Rather, the color they would be, had Charon not had the film over them. Hair the same color, that patched through his ghoul head, and skin soft, smooth, and medium beige.

"Tell me something…tell me anything…tell me you're him?"

I whisper, pressing my forehead against his. Hope has never been so desperate before. Inside, I'm screaming for this to be true. My body shakes with anticipation, with want, with the emotions that will come if the man before me truly and utterly is Charon.

"You wanted me to be normal, remember?"

It doesn't take half a second, for the memory to register in my mind. Suddenly, the world and the emotions that held such beauty and promise, vanish. I pull away from him, feeling the worst bout of guilt I've had since…in my entire life.

"Come on."

I say helping him up. Without word, and I can tell he's utterly confused, we walk back to the room where it's dry. Eons ago, when Charon and I spent the night together for the first time, I said something to him. He had asked me what I wanted from him. I said I wanted him to be normal. Somehow, Charon took that to heart. It seems even, he took it to a whole new level. I told him I wanted him to be a man. I am a monster, aren't I?

Inside the room, I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I know outside of the rain, I have to explain things. I want to explain them, in the quiet, in the private. Tomorrow, I'll make myself a feast.

"What you said out there…"

I trail off, unsure of how to start.

"Dez listen…"

"No, you listen, alright? It's…look when…when I said that, I didn't mean this. I didn't…I didn't mean to go off and…and do _this_."

Turning around I motion to his body. The guilt, submerses the joy, of having Charon.

"This isn't what I meant."

My soft voice shows my shame, and I hang my head.

"I thought perhaps…things would be better for you had I did this."

"Why would you think that?"

"You were berated, Dez. People talked and people saw. A human, loving a ghoul in public, is not something this place is ready for. We're a second-class citizen in latent term, and I didn't want that. I felt as a ghoul, I didn't deserve what I received."

"It never mattered to me what they said."

"It did, because there were times and instances you were upset over it. Dezbe, all that should matter now in this moment is you believe me. That I am who I claim to be. Why…why are you so docile and quiet?"

"Because the man I loved for who he is, is finally just the same as everyone else."

"What?"

"I loved you, because of who you are. Because you were dependant, reliable, protective, and most of all you cared for me above all else. Your comfort and wit and everything you can't see about a person, is what I fell in love with."

"Then it should make no difference if I am a man or not."

"It never did. It only matters now, because you consciously chose to be this way, for a woman who already loved you just as you were."

"You offered to become a ghoul, Dez."

"Yes but for no other reason than to live as long as you. So I wouldn't, you wouldn't, have to go through being without. I didn't do it because I felt undeserving of your love, or that I felt inadequate next to Greta or some ghoulette. I wanted to do it, because I wanted to share as much time with you as I could."

"Then can't you see that I did this in the same light?"

"…No…no I can't. Because you could have come to me, without this. We've been wanted and hunted our whole life together. You went with Bigsley, because you wanted to be a human, because of me. You went, for a shallow reason, instead of finding the one person hurting over your death."

"…I would have dreams. We would be human in them."

"You've told me."

"Yes but…the feeling and perfectness in those dreams…Dez I wanted that to be reality. I wanted you to look at me like you did in those dreams, and smile as bright in real life as you did then. I didn't want you to look at something, that should be buried."

"…I never looked at you that way. I've never passed internal judgment on you about your looks. It never mattered, that you were a ghoul. Maybe in the past when it was all beginning I would think I was crazy because you were a ghoul but that was it. I never said 'Hey, he's a ghoul, I won't love him'. I loved you, for who you are. Were. Are?"

"Would you prefer if I sat in radiation?"

"I need some time alone. I have to think about this. I need you to…to not care anymore, okay? While I think this over, please, don't worry about if I want you human or not. It was never that way. You look, however makes you happy. If you want to stay human alright do it, but I need to get use to that. If you want to go sit and do the ghoul thing well alright too but I'm not peeling your skin off. Just…for now…time."

He looks at me, hurt reflecting in his eyes. We go to separate parts of the small room, a barrier of silence and thoughts between us. In all of this, in everything that's happened this night and the last, in everything that's happened since I was nineteen…I have to ask…am I a bad person? Loving Charon for who he was, and never for how he looked, was something I prided myself on. Does feeling pride for my ways make me bad? Is it horrible, to boast about loving someone internally and letting that fuel physical passion? I don't know. I just know, the night we shared in Underworld, that first kiss where my hands wandered and felt every inch of his upper body, I didn't once feel disgusted. All I felt, was a surge of passion stronger than anything before me, for the man, ghoul, above me.

His muscles and tightened body were a perk to go with his personality and skill. I felt safe in those arms, just as I felt safe hanging from a cliff. I loved Charon, because with him I was invincible. No one could hurt me, because of this force that I had beside me. T his force, that loved me to no end. Will I truly be okay, if he stays human, when I'm so accustomed to his ghoul-ness? It's not a matter of shallow looks, but of comfort, really. I only know him as a ghoul, nothing more. Kissing him feels the same, the passion and heat, but looking at him…feels awkward and unrealistic. Any other woman would think…think that maybe this is the best thing. For me, I look and wonder who the stranger beside me is. Do I want, to wake up in bed beside him, and not recognize him? I want my Charon back. The one with the flesh and muscle somehow still in tact. The one where I could poke something, and it would flex as the rest of his body remained still. The Charon who held a gun to my head, as I stared down from the end of the barrel, looking at his featureless face.

It the Charon I think of, when I say his name. I'm by no means _more_ attracted to the ghoul than I am the man, but in a way, I suppose I am. Since the comfort of it all, matters most. Despite what he looks like I will always and undeniably love him, but will I feel comfortable? Will I be able to close my eyes and feel skin where there should be none? What about sex? All of this factors in. It's not like he got a haircut and looks different, no. This is an _entire_ transformation. He's utterly different now, outwardly, and…and I'm scared. Asking him to go back isn't an option. I can't ask, since it would sound petty and shallow. I'll love him, because I simply do and always will, but I don't know that if he stays human, if I can be physically close to him.

Maybe in time, if I work at it. But it's hard to feel comfortable around someone you've only known as a ghoul for so long. If your dog became human, would you suddenly feel safe to confide your secrets in them, knowing full well they could talk and their loyalty may not last? No. It's kind of the same thing, even though Charon's personality is the same. It's just in another form, and one…one that I'm not comfortable with.

Looking over my shoulder, I watch as he rests on the floor. His back is to me, and his arms are being used for pillows. I wish, I could send him a telepathic message. I'd tell him I love him, that I always will, and to just please be patient. If he wants to stay human for his own desires, then I'll support that. I'll stand by him and support him as he's always supported me. I'm sure soon enough it'll be alright. If he decides, he prefers the benefits of being a ghoul more, then I'm on that bandwagon too. But one thing will stay the same. The fact, that I love him, more than I've ever loved anything else in my life.


	31. The Piano Duet

We arrive in Megaton at dusk the next day. Neither one of us, has said much to the other. Charon…it's so strange calling him that, understands my delay at warming up to him. All I've ever known him as, is a ghoul. I guess now, though if this is what he wants, I'll be happy for him.

Standing before the gates, I hesitate opening them. For us, now, there's not much else to do. With the Brotherhood believing both of us are dead, what else is there? Looking up at him as he stands next to me, I want to talk, before reuniting with Gob and Zack.

"I can't expect an easy answer."

Charon says, his voice drifting over the noise of the wind.

"Just remember, what you're staring at, is still me."

I smirk at him, his voice is so new, it's not ghoulified. Nothing, is ghoulified. Lifting a hand, I feel the smoothness of his face. The roughness of his facial hair slowly growing in, the warm touch of skin that wasn't there before. There's so much to question now, in the lives and adventures of Charon and Dez. Right now, I just want to find peace. I just…I just want to smile.

"Will you play the piano for me, Dez? I've missed it. I've missed…hearing music and notes."

"Yeah…yeah I can do that…"

His hands wrap around my waist, as his head bends down towards mine. There's hesitation, as we stop before our lips meet. I have to remind myself, it's still Charon. Still the man who saved my life, the man who I fell in love with years and years ago. The man that today, I still love. He can't hear it, but in my mind I play a beautiful duet. I play, what it is I'm feeling. Fast-paces on the high notes, slow and melodic on the deep ones. It's beautiful, and when I find a working piano, I'll play it for him.

Our lips meet, soft, secure, with enough passion to excite me, but little enough to keep our clothes on.

"I missed you."

I say, between pauses in our lips.  
"I know."

His fingertips dance along my spine, our sighs harmonizing. In the orange glow of the setting sun, shaded by the enormous structure of Megaton, two ancient lovers continue on the love story that they had begun so long ago. We don't have a home, we don't have safety nor do we have a decent reputation. But in the midst of all that, the one thing we do have, is each other. Kissing him, is the greatest comfort in this world to me. Standing beside him, is the biggest safety offered.

"I can't do it without you, you know."

I say, our heads leaning on one another's.

"Do what?"

"Live. I'm afraid, good sir, that I've become completely codependent on you."

"Ah, so she admits it."

"The old Dezbe doesn't want me to, but the one right now, wants you to know it."

"Then it looks like we're stuck with each other."

"Amen, brother."

He laughs and kisses my forehead.

"Come on, Gob's probably worried."

"He's going to shit a brick when he sees you."

"That's the funny part."

Hand in hand, we open the gates and slip in. He doesn't know the extent of my codependency on him. I don't think, that really he'll ever know. But it makes me feel better, if I can tell him just a little bit. As we walk down the dirtied path, getting looks, stares and whispers from the people who live here, I squeeze his hand. I smile. No matter what he looks like, he's Charon, and I am Dezbe. Together, we're not a force to be reckoned with.

Gob's at Moria's. It wasn't too hard to find him, after all, he's always there. Well, _was_ always there before we left. Charon and I stand in the doorway to the back room. It seems now, he's taken residence there, living and working with Moria while Zack plays with trinkets. I wouldn't let my child play with anything in this place, but then again, that's me. You never know what could blow up in your face.

"How long till he notices?"

Charon whispers in my ear, his hair tickling my cheek. I smirk, shrugging and folding my arms over my chest.

"Gob!"

I shout and I see him jump a mile into the air. He turns around, and a smile quickly grows over his face.

"Dez!"

He picks me up, hugging me, spinning me. We laugh together as old friends do. He covers my face and head in kisses, overjoyed and ecstatic. I don't think he expected me to come back alive.

"Ah! Man am I happy to see you kid! Where you been hidin'? Are you alright? You have some scrapes. I heard you were dead, kid! You have to tell me what happened? Where's Charon?"

Gob ignores the being in the doorway, not thinking twice about him really. As he puts me down I start to laugh in a way only Gob can make me.

"Calm down, it's a long story. Bottom line is, I'm not dead."

"You have a new haircut."

"I do? Didn't notice until you pointed it out."

Gob playfully punches me in the arm. He shakes his head towards the exit.

"Zack's with Moria for the night, come on let me buy you a drink up at the saloon. Say where's Charon? He with you? He alive?"

Again, Gob doesn't say anything about the strange man in the doorway. In fact I'm not sure he even sees him in the midst of the excitement. Putting my hands on my hips, I stick my tongue out.

"I'll take you up on the drinks, but right now please turn your attention to the one, the only Charon."

I point to Charon, and Gob's face drops. He shakes his head, smirking.

"Ah, good one kid. No really, where is the bastard?"

"No Gob, really, this is Charon."

"I ain't fallin' for it."

"Gobtholomew, you were always the stupid one of the bunch."

Charon says as he lights a cigarette. Now, Gob gets it. He's frozen in shock and disbelief, and I walk over to Charon. Taking the cigarette from his lips, I make it my own. He glares at me as he goes to light another one.

"What…the _hell_?"

Without thinking, Gob's poking and prodding and touching Charon like he's a display of some sorts. I raise an eyebrow, watching the comedy unfold. Charon tries to get away, but Gob holds fast and tugs at his hair. He pulls his cheek, scratches his arm, and finally looks at his teeth before settling down and staring at him in marvel. Charon, is quite annoyed by this. I can't wipe the smirk off my face.

"It's a long story, but I assure you, this is Charon."

Gob finds a stool and sits down, bewildered. He runs his hand over his head, still in shock.

"I believe you kid, I just don't believe _it_. So…so…_human_."

"I need a shot, come on."

Right now is a happy time. A happy time where old friends can take a night, have a beer, and smoke a cigarette. Taking Gob's wrist, I drag him away from Moria's. Charon follows behind, as he endures the staring of Gob. I don't want to talk about how this happened, about what happened in The Pitt or how I was almost dead not too long ago. Those stories and memories are for mundane times, not times that are filled with reunion and laughs. Gob, he'll understand. In the past if I didn't want to talk, he'd never make me. Even though Charon is now a scientific marvel, I'm sure he'll still respect my wishes. After all…he owes me a drink.

Getting inside the saloon, Charon Gob and I sit down at the bar. There's a lot of people here, and it makes my sad demeanor perk up a bit. I look around at the residents, the passersby, the wanderers and beggars. Nova's corner stands empty, a small cloud of sadness hanging over for those who knew of her. Gob looks at it, a sad smile on his face. I pat his back as the barkeep comes over.

"What can I get ya?"

He asks, and I look at Gob.

"Three beers."

I say holding up three fingers. Charon shakes his head.

"Just two."

"What you're not drinking?"

I stare at Charon, an eyebrow raised.

"I have to make sacrifices now, Dez. Can't let my guard down so easy."

"Oh, yeah, right. Human and all that."

I wave my hand in front of my face like I smell something rotten. Charon's whole transformation totally altered him in a way. He can't be as reckless as he was, and that's a bit depressing. Music drifts up from somewhere, making my ears perk up, and my mind wander. It's not coming from any radio, and it waves down from somewhere…somewhere close by. Looking at Charon and Gob, I can tell they hear the melodic and sultry tune, too. I'm not going crazy. Finally, I find the source of the beautiful notes. Over to where Burke once sat, is a pianist, and in front of him, an old piano. It's nothing special, really. All beat up and old, but…but it's in tune. The barkeep comes back, handing me and Gob our drinks.

"Where'd you get that?"

I ask him, sipping at the beer.

"Oh, that? That's been here for a year or somethin' now. Why?"

"Can I try?"

He shrugs, picking up a glass and putting it on the shelf.

"Sure I don't care."

Smiling, I take another sip of my beer and get up from the barstool. I feel Gob watching me, and Charon's eyes burning into me. Tapping the pianist on the shoulder, he stops his hands from moving anymore, and turns around.

"My turn."

I demand and he stares at me for a bit, like I'm some sort of joke. Putting my hands on my hips, I curl my lip up and he gets off. Sitting down, I rest my hands gingerly on the keys. It's been…such a long, long time. My fingers dance and dance, but not hard enough to let the piano strike chords. Just enough, so that the memory of how-to comes back. Pieces, notes, staffs and sounds run through my head as the muscle memory returns. Smiling, I turn around to look at Charon. He's staring at me, my beer in his hand.

"You'll know this."

Closing my eyes, I take no hesitation. The works of Mozart flows through me, as I play from memory, _Rondo Alla Turca_. My hands, fingers really, swift and easily moving over the keys. I hide a calm and proud smile, as both left and right hands work differently, yet in harmony. I can't hear anything, as the upbeat notes play loudly, louder than I feel this piano has ever been played. Such pleasure, calmness, and peace flows in me as I lose myself in all of it. It's been so long, and I've forgotten, how much joy such a simple act once brought me.

As I fall to the end of one piece, I slow into another. Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_. I play, whatever mood I feel. I can't pick or choose the choices of music that come to my mind. The memories of the sheet music in front of my closed eyelids, are presented on whatever my heart wants to hear. When I'm playing this piano, any piano, I lose myself in it. I have no control on anything, and the world around me doesn't matter. All I can hear, are the notes that rise up be it sad or happy, and all I can feel, are the hard keys stroking my fingertips. Music, like this, is lost to this world. I think if Three Dog had played more of it, had found it somehow, this world may have been a far different place.

When I finish, I bring my hands up and crack my knuckles. Behind me is silence, and I don't want to turn around. I can feel people, staring at me, because the notes and music drowned out their conversation. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry. For a few minutes, I wanted to feel free.

"Let me join."

I jump as Charon sits beside me. His hands, rest on his thighs as he looks at me, waiting for my response.

"What do you want to play?"

He looks at the keys, his finger pressing down on one.

"The only song we've ever played together."

A small smile, falls on my face. I can hardly remember, the last time he sat beside me on a piano bench. He was a ghoul then, and a human now. With the silence of the saloon to our backs, Charon and I lose ourselves in our own, quiet, peaceful world. Together, our hands press the keys. Not meant to be a duet, but becoming one as we sit side by side. I play the deeper notes, as Charon controls the higher ones. A sad, but beautiful song. I can tell it fills the hearts of the bar-goers. Can tell that their staring, and listening in a way, they never had before. As the song rises, peaking, yet slowing ever so softly, I find warm tears in my eyes. Not of sadness, but I can't explain of what. Of beauty, maybe. Charon's pace, is perfect with mine, and a quick glance over tells me his eyes are closed.

"Love is not a victory march…"

He whispers, his head down, eyes closed. I mimic him, losing, lost in ourselves, our music, this song and the world means nothing. He has to hear the lyrics in his head, to make sure he's playing the right part. Me? I just listen. Listen to the notes, to the song, to the rises and falls of each and every note that emits itself. Tonight, is a time of relaxation, and of emotions that can't be put into words, being expressed through the carefully twined and tuned old piano before us.

Together, we finish the song as if we'd spent days upon days rehearsing. When our fingers lift from the keys, and our eyes open as we raise our head, we greet one another with a sad smile. It's a silent moment, a short moment, before the barkeep's loud voice makes us turn around.

"Round of drinks on me for the two musicians!"

The saloon erupts with cheers, and I laugh. I forgot for a minute, that there was a room full of people behind us. Charon places his hand on my back, as we get up from the old stool. Tonight, as I finish my first beer, will be a night to remember.


	32. Moments Like These

(Charon)

I watch her from across the room. Everyone, watches her. It's beautiful, really. I can't tell you how happy I am, that she believes me. That now she knows, and is warming up to my newfound skin. My face, can't help but keep a calm disposition, as I watch her fluid movements from the far side of the saloon. A beer raised high into the air, Dez falls into place. Men crowd around, watching her. I was worried at first, but every now and again, she gives me a look. A sly, subtle look from the corner of her eye. I catch it, and it reminds me, she is mine and only mine.

My heart beats in my ears, as I watch her fluid movements of dancing. She dances to the music, dances to the beat flowing through her. A few beers and a couple shots deep, she lets loose. She creates this energy around her, and it's so hard, to describe a force. To describe _her_ force. People raise their hands, clapping in rhythm. I focus on Dezbe, and only on Dezbe. The fire, that burns so brightly inside of her, illuminates all around. Everyone here is watching her, and everyone is keeping rhythm through her. Like she's their personal metronome. If I had known, music meant so much to her, I would have tried harder to find holotapes of her interest.

For now, though, she takes a simple comfort in dancing. She's been dancing, for hours. Not stopping for a rest, only to take a sip of the beer in her hand. Only to take a shot from the bar. It's easy to see, as I watch her move in lucid movements, why I found myself so attracted to her. This aura she has, this energy she emits, no one else could. No one, could ever copy her. She is a being and a presence all her own. Pulling at my shirt collar, I grow hot from the stuffy atmosphere of the saloon. I don't want to leave Dez alone with these men. Luckily, Gob maneuvers his way to her, and takes his place beside her. They dance, and I smile. He alleviates me from my duty, for a moment.

Slipping outside, the cool night air brushes against my skin. I'm happy, she is having a good time. I'm happy that she believes me. I knew it wouldn't be easy to convince her, but somewhere deep down inside, I knew that she would. There was never a question or a wonder if she wouldn't. A part of me, believed that she would. How? Because I know her. I know her, and I know her love for me. Even if you don't want to believe it, or admit it, when you love someone, a feeling of 'just knowing' comes over you. It was simply delayed with Dez, and for good reason. She's learned not to trust anyone quickly, and for that I'm proud of her.

"Charon?"

I hear my name as I light a cigarette. Picking my head up, and shoving my lighter into my pocket, I turn my head. Dezbe stands, in this whimsical way beside the door to the saloon. It could be, though, that this whimsical stance is only her being drunk.

"Charon…you left."

"I only stepped out for a cigarette."

"You weren't watching me."

Her eyes grow wide. I've never noticed this before in her. She looks as if she's a small and lost child, as if I was leaving her for good. Slowly, she walks over to me. Grabbing my arm for support, I feel her fingers wrap around my forearm. Her eyes don't leave mine for an instant, not even as she almost trips over her own feet.

"I only stepped outside, Dez."

I know she's intoxicated, so I talk to her like a child. It's the only way, really, to speak to her without getting her angry. When she's drunk, that is.

"But you weren't watching me."

"I am now, aren't I?"

A small smile emerges on her petite face. I smile back. She raises a beer, one that was in her hand.

"Drink with me?"

"No, Dez."

Her fingers raise from my forearm. I feel her nails, trailing on my torso in a seductive way. Like she did once before, so many years ago, she raises the bottle to my lips.

"Take a sip…"

I oblige and take a sip of the warm beer. It tastes disgusting. Thankfully, she lowers it, and presses her head against my chest. A clunk on the ground, tells me she is no longer holding the beer.

"Smile for me?"

She says, and I kiss the top of her head.

"I am smiling."

Dez looks up at me, her chin resting on my white shirt. Her face, has perfectly placed freckles, as her dark, short hair fits her small features. I can feel her eyes passing judgment on my new face, as she analyzes every bit.

"What's wrong?"

I ask as I take a drag from my cigarette. Dez shakes her head, her lips pursed.

"Nothing. Drunk."

"Why not go inside? You were having fun."

"Nothing is fun without you. Dance with me?"

"I don't dance."

"Dance with me."

"No, Dez."

She pouts, but I truly do not know the first thing of dancing. Dez pulls away from me, not angry, but sighing. She leans against the rail of the makeshift road, and I go and stand beside her. We look up to the stars together, as lights twinkle around us.

"We can live…however we want. However you want."

She says, her voice soft. I kiss the side of her head, running my fingers through her short hair.

"This place holds a lot of memories for us. Good and bad."

I tell her, my voice just as soft as hers.

"Charon?"

"Yeah?"

"There are no bad memories."

"What?"

"There's no bad memories for us. Because all the bad things, made us grow closer. So…so in a way, they're good ones, too."

"I guess they are."

Dez turns around, pushing herself into my body. I wrap my arms around her, holding her small frame. I know here she feels safe. I want to show her, that even though I'm human, her safety isn't the least bit compromised.

"Why'd you do it?"

Her voice is muffled against my shirt, but I still hear her.

"Do what?"

"Everything you did for me. You didn't care about me when we first started, and don't tell me it was because of John or your curiousness about me. Tell me…tell me why _you_ did it."

Sighing, I rub her back with my palms. She's shorter than me, but it's always something I've liked. It makes me feel like I can protect her better. With all we've endured these past years, I want to think, that no more harm will come. She looks up at me, awaiting my answer. The look in her eyes drives me crazy.

"Because I wanted to."

The lights switch off in Megaton. It's past midnight now. The big moon illuminates us, bright and silver.

"I wish we could go back to the beginning. I wish…I wish we could live in those satellites."

"We can, Dez. We can do whatever we want. The Brotherhood believes us both to be dead."

"For how long, though? How long, until word gets back to them that we're not?"

"I don't know."

"And then when it does, what will we do? This is our home, Charon. The Capital Wasteland is all we know."

"You speak quite clearly for a drunk."

"I can think clearly."

"Well then when they find us, we'll figure out our next move."

She wraps her arms around my neck. I pull her up to me. Do you know this feeling? This feeling, of being wanted, the feeling of being needed? When someone you love so deeply, as I love Dez, is completely dependent on you, it's not a chore. It's not a burden, as some people may think. Rather, it's a beautiful thing. An emotion, only witnessed and felt by rare and lucky people. I would do anything for this girl, and she would do anything for me. Knowing, that she needs me as much as a newborn needs their mother, reminds me in a way, that I'm alive.

"I don't want to run anymore, Charon."

"I know."

She buries her head in the nape of my neck. I feel her hot, wet tears, and I hold her tighter.

"We can find somewhere safe to stay, I promise."

"We can't stay here, Charon."

"We'll find another home. There are many places here."

"And you'll stay with me? In that home?"

"Yes. Don't be foolish, you know I will."

She picks her head up, as I place her feet back on the solid ground. Her big doe eyes stare up at me.

"Let's go inside, Charon. Let's go dance. Dance with me?"

"I don't dance."

"Charon…"

The way she says my name, has always sent a shudder up my spine. Now, more than ever it seems. Soft, clinging, needing and loving, she says it in a way that makes even the strongest man's heart break. I bend down, and kiss her. My hand holds the back of her head, as her arms stay tightly wrapped around my neck and shoulders. After every hard kiss, she leaves a soft one. It's been this way, since our first kiss in Rivet City.

"I love you, Charon."

Her tone mimics the one six years ago. The one she had, the night she mourned her father. She whispered it to me as we laid on a mattress, in the middle of her trashed room, in her old home not far from here.

"I know."

I say and she smiles. She smiles, because she remembers. Remembers that moment, and how brave she felt. Dez is so scared, but she'll never admit it to anyone. Her brave mask that she shows with confidence, isn't really the being she is inside. There are times, when she's nothing more, than a scared and lost child. I know this, which is why I feel more protective of her, than I have anyone else before. I want to be the barrier, that protects her from all the harm in this world. She's made so many sacrifices, endured so much pain, I wonder how it's possible for her, to still feel so powerfully as she does now. I suppose, though in that sense, we're the same being.

"A shooting star."

Dez says as she looks upwards.

"Quick, make a wish."

Closing her eyes, Dezbe makes a wish. What it is, I don't know, but the smile on her face tells me it's something beautiful. When she opens her eyes, she blinks and looks around, lost for a moment.

"Everything alright?"

Nodding, she takes my hands in hers.

"Want to know my wish?"

"It won't come true if you tell me."

"I wished that I'd never be alone again."

"Well, you won't be."

Placing her back to me, Dez leans into my body. I hold her, as we crane our necks up to the sky. Littered, with a billion tiny eyes, we stare back at them.

"The moon is big."

"It is."

Dez smiles as she looks up, and I smile as I look at her.

"You think…you think that everything will be okay one day?"

"One day, perhaps."

"What if the world dies?"

"A world can't die."

"What if it does?"

"Then we would die with it."

"I think that's the only way for people to learn, is to start over. Maybe…maybe the Brotherhood will make them see that. Maybe, they'll realize what's going on. Maybe."

"Maybe."

"Think Jackie ever got back home?"

I don't answer her question. The guilt is too deep to. I remember, vividly, what happened with Jackie and myself the one and only night we were alone together. I regret it. I regret every minute of it, with every ounce of my being. But…I have never had a woman push herself on me like that. Never felt, the perks that come with being a human, even when I was. The only beings to ever want me, desire me, have been only Greta and Dez. Lily never wanted me in any way, simply felt it was a 'had to' kind of thing. I fell into the carnal desires that most women would be berated and punished for in certain areas of the world. But desires, that men all around, brag about with sport and smiles. I find, that there is no smiling, in betraying someone you love, even if they do not yet know of it.

When I don't answer, but instead rest my head on top of Dez's, I can tell she wants to change the subject. When her feelings or thoughts change, it's almost like you can feel it.

"I want to show you something."

She slurs, the smell of hard liquor invading my nostrils. Pulling away from me, Dez begins to walk. Rather, stumble. I follow her, to the gates of Megaton. Of course I have to help her down the steep slope past her, our, old home because she would have fallen all the way down in her state. When we do reach the gate, her body nearly depending on mine to keep her straight, she throws herself at it. It doesn't budge, and she lays on the ground in a groaning state.

"Owwwwwww…."

I have to hide a laugh as she lays there, moaning and groaning at the self-induced pain. Stepping over her, I easily open it and help her up.

"That really hurt!"

"Then don't be so brazen."

"You shut up."

Dez's attitude is interchangeable when she's drunk. So I don't take much of anything she says personally. Unless it's sentimental, that's the one thing everyone should take seriously when she decides to speak. It's not often, she's soft and kind towards you. Take it, and listen, but also take it with a grain of salt.

"What do you want to show me?"

I ask as I close the gates. The moon shines over everything, like a thin silver blanket. At night, I think, is the only time the word 'beautiful' could ever be used to describe the Capital Wasteland.

"Come here."

I turn to look at Dez as she creeps along the edges of the walls of Megaton. Nonchalantly I follow. I figure the worse she can want to show me out here is some Deathclaw she tamed and named. That, I figure, would be a big problem. Parting Dez from a pet, I would assume, is probably not the easiest thing to do. We reach the side of Megaton, shielded by the structure and the night. Dez looks around, as if she's a small child preparing to cross the road. I look as well, but see nothing of interest. No Deathclaws, either, which I find is very good.

"What is it?"

Her eyes meet mine, and soften. She glances towards the night sky, her face half-lit by the moon. When her eyes find mine again, I feel my cold heart melt.

"Charon?"

"Hm?"

"Believe me, alright? Believe me, like I believe you."

"About what?"

Her hand slides from mine. A small smile, traces along her face. Perfect freckles, that I've never noticed before, align with her face. Accenting it all, as if they were placed there by a careful hand. Making a work of art, more detailed. I watch her, carefully still in wonder, as she begins to undress. A part of me wants to stop her, but another part prevents me. Curious, to see what she's doing, I let her continue. When she's bare-born naked, she looks back up at me, her newly short hair framing her face. I stare at her, her scarred and naked body, as her arms fall from her chest and rest at her sides. Her thighs, are covered in deep, fresh scars. Ones still pink, and her hands trickle near her knees, scabbed and worn from the elements.

"Look at me."

She says with disdain, and sadness in her voice. I look up at her, like I'm obeying.

"I am."

"No, Charon. _Look_ at me."

Her hands motion to her body. Her body, in its entirety. She wants me to look at her scars. The ones that drive deep, the old, the new. The ones that never fully healed, leaving hurtful memories behind. Remnants of the past, and remnants of the recent. I see them deep in her stomach, slicing in her thighs, winding along her back and shining on her neck. Her face, holds the diagonal ones from Point Lookout. The welts I caused are still there. The scars, that I was there to witness and failed to prevent from happening, are painful to me. Her inner thighs shine with faded bite-marks, and I hang my head in shame knowing that I could have stopped them from ever happening. Had it not been, for my stubbornness at the time.

"I'm all carved up, Charon."

I notice now her hands, clenching and unclenching at her sides. They make tiny fists, fists that my hand can block and subdue with ease. No words come from my mouth. Instead I worry about wanderers and threats. Dez, obviously, doesn't. For her this is important, so for the moment, I don't worry.

"I don't understand."

I admit, her scars still shining. There's ones littering her arms from stray bullets. I think, that maybe the only place scars are absent, are the tops of her feet. Now, though, as I look at them, I wonder if they weren't shaded by the walls of Megaton, would there be scars there, too? Her soft sniffle, causes me to look at her. Soft, silent tears, flow down from her tightly-closed eyes. I give her a soft smile, that she can't see. Reaching for her, I pull the sobbing, naked being that is Dezbe into my chest.

"You don't have to cry."

"I'm disgusting…"

My fingertips graze the scar that curves around her back. The largest, most prominent one on her body.

"No…you're not. Come, get dressed."

Dez looks up at me, as she pulls away, her hands flat on my chest.

"But…but even though I'm this person…you love me. You know me…you know my good and my bad…but here you are. And it's pretty, isn't it? Pretty…that someone can look past all you've done wrong, your faults and rock-bottom incidents, and still love you."

"Yes, I suppose…it is pretty."

A smile forms on her face. I look down at her, scars from Desmond prominent on her breasts, but never before has she looked more beautiful. I want to pick her up, and take all this pain from her frail and petite body. The human form is so easily broken, so easily discarded and left for dead, that I wonder how she's lived such a long life.

"Is something else, wrong?"

I ask when she doesn't reach for her clothes to dress. Her stare is deadly, set in stone and set in defiance.

"I want you to tell me, if there's something on your mind."

I want her to say anything right now.

"I'd do anything for you, you know, Charon."

"I know."

"I would."

"Dez, what's wrong?"

She shakes her head, sliding her hand in mine. I notice she looks past me, and at the stars and moon above.

"Once upon a time, I was innocent you know."

Dez sits down on the dirt, not caring about her nudity. I sit beside her, as she curls herself into my torso, staring ahead and upwards.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But…no one stays that way forever. And…and I think that's kind of sad."

"It is."

"Sometimes I get tired of being here. Tired, of running and gallivanting all over. Sometimes I just want to rest. Rest and live somehow, out of the spotlight. I…I want to sometimes…close my eyes and pretend…it's all okay."

She lays her head in my lap, her eyes closing with drunken sleepiness. I lay a hand on her shoulder, her skin is cold.

"Get dressed, come inside, and everything will be."

Dez opens her eyes, snakelike slits really, and glances at me.

"I hope you're right."

I help her get her pants, her shirt, and her shoes back on. When all is in place, and all is in the right area, Dez takes another look at me. Her eyes have a glaze over them, the familiar glaze of a drunkard.

"When I was in school, I was scared. I was so scared, because it was my first time really meeting the other vault kids. Everyone looked through me. They all knew each other. No one…no one really knew me."

"Then it's their loss."

"No…no I think it's best for them. That way…then, I never got the chance to hurt them."

Dez is silent after that. Silent as she walks back to the gates with me close behind. Silent even, as she opens them and we slip inside. Before we continue on to our unknown destination, she looks at me, with hope and lore.

"You'd never hurt me again, would you?"

I catch my words in my throat. Jackie, flashes in my mind as if she's a terrible reminder. I figure for now, right now, I won't tell her.

"No, no I won't."

We end up sleeping in the Common House. Dez finds a spare bed, and I lie with her in it. She falls asleep with ease, but thoughts and memories keep me awake. Memories, of Jackie, mostly. I light a cigarette, as I sit up in bed. My legs dangle over the edge. What came over me that night? What was it, that caused me to commit a sin that deep? Dez and I are not married, but I was disloyal to her. Disloyal first when I left in anger at Raul's arrival, and again later that night when I got angry at Jackie's advances. Annoyed, really, more than angry I suppose.

I shouldn't have been so brash. So brazen as to go and do that to her. Leaving her as I did, even though at the time she didn't know who I was. I should have never left her, to help someone who I don't even know. I wish there was a reasonable way to deal with this guilt, but there's none. There's no reason, no excuse, nothing. There's no one to blame, other than my own foolish self.

Getting up, I quietly make my way towards the door. Dez rolls over in her sleep as I put my hand on the knob, but she doesn't wake. The liquor will keep her asleep through another nuclear war, and it'll give me time to step away and to think. The night air is cool and crisp. Smoke comes from my nose, as I run my fingers over the lines of missing flesh on my arms. Ghoulification was so close. I was nearly on the verge of destroying what I had gone through so much pain to work for. Me being human, at least helps Dez with her disguise. I was a dead giveaway, a tall ghoul bodyguard able to be easily spotted through a well-placed scope. Now, I am human, and if her enemies see me first, they'll move along.

"I still can't believe it."

Gob's voice causes me to jump and nearly attack him. I stop short, though, once I realize it's him. Where did he come from, anyways?

"Believe what? Oh."

"It's a miracle. Think I should give it a try?"

"It's painful, Gob. Excruciating, really. I wouldn't recommend it, since it's a high-risk procedure."

"I see. Thanks for the warning."

Gob stands by my side and lights a cigarette. We've become good friends over the years. He's the only person, I feel comfortable with speaking to openly.

"Gob there's something I have on my mind. I feel a need to justify it, but I can't. Maybe…maybe I could get your opinion?"

"If it has suttin' to do with Dez then fix it yourself. I ain't no counselor."

"I'm not sure exactly, what it has to do with."

Gob shrugs and blows out smoke. He looks at me. I feel distant from him, as I stare at his face. I'm not a ghoul anymore, I'm a human. Somehow, I feel that loses me a lot of respect within my own community. I went against my kind.

"Something happened…a few nights ago…with…a female."

I don't have to finish before Gob's on me like shit on a Brahmin's ass.

"You didn't fuck her, did you?"

He doesn't ask who, he doesn't ask her name, those seem to not matter. My silence, gives him his answer.

"Fuckin' prick…does Dezbe know? Was she there?"

"No…and no she wasn't. I…don't know if I should tell her."

"Well of course you can't fuckin' tell her you idiot! Did this happen pre-human?"

"No. It was quite recently."

Gob shakes his head in disappointment. I don't know what he's thinking, or if I should be concerned or not.

"Charon…as your friend I want to say tell her. As a ghoul and an outsider…I want to say don't."

"Why not? Tell her I mean."

Gob sighs, pacing next to me.

"Because what will she think, Charon? You're new and improved and ain't that bad lookin' of a guy. You tell her you fucked up like that an' she's gonna be thinkin' that since some broad tossed her tits around you let it outta your pants. She's gonna be convinced it's because you're a human, an' not hear of anything else. Fuck she might even leave you over it."

"What makes you think all of this?"

"Would the ghoul-Charon ever think of doing that? More important, would he have been presented with the opportunity to?"

I never thought of it in that light.

"The fact that now you're a sexual object to the opposite sex is probably one of Dez's fears. She hasn't seen it in action yet but I figure it's in her head. Tellin' her you up and grabbed at it like that isn't gonna sit well. She ain't never had to deal with someone tryna emotionally take you from her. Have a feelin' it ain't gonna go over with her too well, either."

"I wish there was a way to justify it. What happened and all. It wouldn't make it right, but…shit it would make me feel better about it."

Gob stares at me as I toss my cigarette into the dirt and step on it. I don't like the look he has.

"Did you enjoy it?"

His question is bold, but it's something he needed to ask.

"No. I only did it…because I was annoyed. She kept pushing and trying and I thought that if I maybe gave her what she wanted, it would go away."

"Phrase it however you want, but the bottom line is, you did it. And you finished huh?"

I nod in shame. Sitting on the ground, I bury my fingers in my hair.

"Then in the end, you enjoyed it."

Anger rises up. There's nothing I want more than to hit Gob straight in his jaw. Knock him down and beat him until there's nothing left of his face. But I can't. I can't, because in the end he's right. A part of me _did_ enjoy it. Enjoyed the roughness that came with the anger, that flowed through the actions of the night. I never had a smoothskin throw themselves at me like that. Never had the chance, to act upon carnal desires that no one speaks of. It still, doesn't make what I did right. No matter how much I may have secretly enjoyed giving her what she had pined for, and no matter how much she enjoyed receiving it.

"Don't tell her. It'll break what she has left of a heart an' I'm pretty sure her endurance is runnin' on empty."

I look up at Gob, my hands still stick in my hair.

"What do you mean?"

"When you left her here…shit I can't say it right. She just slept all day. I figure…figure this life is getting old. Dez can't take much more. I dunno if this information would be her breaking point, but jus' don't go wantin' to find out. Where is she, anyways?"

"Inside, sleeping."

"Any idea on what you two are doin' next?"

"No. The Brotherhood thinks we're both dead."

"You know, eventually, they're going to find out you're not."

"I'll have to cross that bridge when it comes than."

Pressing down on the dirt with my hands, I stand up. Gob looks at me, and I see the disappointment in his eyes. I didn't know that a friend's disappointment in you, could hurt so much.

"Go inside, and get close to your girl. You two been through enough. Sleep well, and worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes."

He doesn't leave room for me to say goodbye. Quickly, he walks down the steep path that leads up to the Common House. I stand for a moment, watching my only friend vanish into the night. Turning back to go inside, I carry a heavy burden with me. As much as I want to tell Dez the truth, tell her about it, and beg for her forgiveness, I know that I can't. Gob's right, in the end. It just might break her.

Inside, I look at Dez as I sit on the edge of the small bed. I'd do most anything, and change the world, if it was for her. It's comical almost, how much you have to lose and fuck up, to realize how much those around you mean to you. There was a time, when I would have moved the Earth itself if it meant for her to smile at me. I still would, if she asked me. Brushing her cheek with my bare knuckle, I remember memories that should be long forgotten. Arguments, laughs, moments of the past that were so brief you'd think they'd be overlooked. I remember it all, just as well as she does I'm sure.

"Hmmm…"

She mutters in her sleep, a tired hand reaching up to mine. Small fingers, clasp around my larger ones. I let her hold my hand. Let her dream and sleep in a rare deep slumber, as I lie beside her. All I can do now, is use this time to prove in every single way, that I'll never hurt her again. That I'll be the person she once wholeheartedly wanted me to be, believed me to be. She'll never know, what happened between Jackie and I, but I'll still show her. Somehow, in my own light. After all that's happened, it's the least I can do.


	33. I Think I Hate You

"I'm dying!"

I yell, holding my head in pain. Gob and Charon stare at me as we all huddle in the back room of Moria's. Zack even stops playing with his toy car and stares at me.

"You're not dying, you're hungover."

"I'm never drinking again!"

Both Gob and Charon give a laugh and Charon rolls his eyes at me.

"Yeah, you can tell yourself that."

I hit the counter in anger. They have no idea what I'm going through right now. The pain is damn near insatiable and they didn't drink nearly as much as I did. I have a feeling that Charon didn't even drink at all. He never does. Prick.

"If you're feelin' that bad, head down to Doc Church's place. Sure he'll fix you up."

"He's the _devil_."

Charon and Gob laugh again at my antics. I cough and hold back vomit as I lie on the cool floor. Why does it have to be so damned hot in the day? Can't it be this warm at night so then at least it's a bit easier to sleep? I don't know about you, but I can't sleep when it's freezing out. It's just damn uncomfortable.

"Come on, Dez. Get yourself together we have to start thinking."

Charon's voice annoys me to no end as I stay curled in the fetal position on the floor.

"What's there to think about?"

I am curious about that one.

"We can't stay in Megaton forever. We have to keep moving so the Brotherhood doesn't figure out we're still alive."

"Who cares anymore, Charon?"

I open my eyes to see ghoul and human staring back at me. Both of them have bewildered expressions on their faces, but neither of them is offering an answer. Pushing myself up off of the floor, I sit upright, and lean against the wall.

"They've been after us for _so long_, you'd think they'd get tired. Didn't they get what they wanted the first couple times around catching us? It's old. I'm done with them. I just want to live."

"We can't simply 'live' when we're wanted, Dez."

"I'm highly aware of that, Charon. The Enclave made quite an impact on me at Rockopolis, remember?"

"Why does that come up so suddenly?"

I shrug and light a cigarette. The smoke makes my stomach settle, and at the same time worsens my headache. There's no winning in this situation at all. Oh liquor, why must you be so cruel and vengeful? Am I not dolefully loyal to you? Why, why do you treat me with such resentment?

"I don't know. But alright, what's your plan?"

Challenging Charon is really the only way to get him to do what I want. Even though I'm still not use to seeing a human when I look at him, I figure the inside of him is still Charon, and I know that inside Charon like the back of my hand. Speaking of the back of my hand, there's a cut there. Didn't know about that.

"As of right now, I have none. We have to stay under the radar, until we can find a place to go to after leaving the Capital Wasteland."

I drop my hand down to my lap. Right now, the smoke isn't even affecting my headache. Nothing is. His words really bother me.

"Leave the Capital Wasteland? Like…for _good_?"

Charon nods as Gob gets up to deal with a newly crying Zack. I think he pinched his hand or something, I wasn't quite listening. I stare up at Charon as he sits on a high barstool around the counter of the back room.

"Charon…Charon we can't leave here. This…this is our home. It's the closest thing to a home that either one of us have had."

"Is it worth dying for?"

His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he regrets saying that. He sighs, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair.

"I know how much this place means to you, no matter how much you want to claim it doesn't. If you can find a better alternative to leaving, than we can try it. I understand your wanting to stay here."

"It's my home, Charon. It's…it's where…"

"It's where a lot of things happened. I know, you and I both have memories here. Leaving would mean a big change. But you left before, remember?"

"But everyone comes home in the end, and I came home. I don't want to leave again."

"I know, Dezbe. I know."

He's expecting me to pull some cockeyed scheme out of my ass. Even hungover, I'm sure the younger more youthful Dezbe would have had something. This Dezbe, though, doesn't. I can't think of anything that we haven't tried. Taking on an army with just us would mean suicide, and staying is just as bad. How long can you keep running for, before everything catches up to you? This isn't what I wanted to do, waking up first thing in the morning. I had hoped of enjoying some hearty breakfast of squirrel stew, but that isn't about to happen. So instead, I pick up my Pip-Boy and pull up my map. After, of course, I dim the lighting on it a bit.

"Rivet City."

I say as I close my eyes. Even dimmed, the Pip-Boy doesn't do well for my hungover eyes.

"What about it?"

"Let's go there. Let's go there, and get your leather armor and gun. We can rent a room at Vera's and figure out what to do from there."

"I don't need my leather armor, or my gun. We can figure out what to do here."

My eyes snap open as I glare at Charon. What he's just said, sets him back in the whole 'getting use to human' thing I have going. Despite my body pleading with me, I stand up and look him in the eyes.

"The old Charon, wouldn't _ever_ leave his custom shotgun, _or_ his leather armor behind _anywhere_."

Turning to Gob, who I can tell feels exactly the same way as I do, I put my hands on my hips.

"I'm going to lie down in your bed to sleep this hangover off. You can tell _him_ to find me whenever he figures out what the _hell_ he's become."

Now, I look back at Charon, who by this point acknowledges my anger and resentment to his change.

"I don't even think you have your dogtags anymore."

With that I storm out of the room. The stomping of my own feet hurt my head, but I can't care anymore. Maybe I could deal with this human thing a lot better, if Charon wasn't slowly drifting away from me. You know, I can sense things like that. Sense when people change, and you know it's probably for good. Who they were before isn't who they are now, and that sense of comfort and safety is gone. It's also hard to really believe that it is Charon in front of me, when not only is he human but a lot different than his former self.

It's not even big things, either. I realize this as I pull back the heavy blanket from Gob's oversized bed and kick off my boots. It's small things, things that make a person, that's different about him. In some small ways, he's exactly the same, but in others he's not. People change over time and due to events in their lives, I get that. But these things…these things that are so hard to pinpoint, is what's changing, and what's bothering me. Like him wanting to leave his gun and armor. There was a time, you know, when those two things meant the world to him. His gun modified for his comfort only, and his leather armor worn with age and integrity. Even though his armor was replaced some years back, it still held meaning and purpose. Nostalgic things of the past, often stay that way to people, no matter how different they become. I know that for a fact, because there's still nights where I can't sleep unless I mutter the words of Revelation 21:6.

Another thing, is too, that he's become aware. Aware, I guess, of things he needs to be aware of but things that never mattered before. Like his proneness to injury. Charon ghoul would _never_ have cared for the injury, if I was in danger. He did protect me from the grenade, but did nothing when I was shooting at the Raiders. I know he was unarmed, but when has that ever stopped him before? There's not a lot of radiation around these days, but Charon ghoul would still have come after me, fists flailing at the nearest target. Things like that, I guess, is what's making it so hard for me to adjust to his human.

Laying down, I let the soft pillows surround my head. With my eyes closed, the world around me seems so much better. Would it be wrong to say I wish he was still ghoul? Perhaps but…it's true. The Charon I had come to grow with, to love, to feel safe around, is slowly becoming just as petty and dishonest as every other human being. Even if it is a gradual change, it's change nonetheless. Change, that I'm not sure I welcome. What I would give, to have the old Charon back.

"Dez?"

As if he has mind-reading powers, Charon comes into the bedroom. I hear the door open and close behind him, as his heavy footsteps grow closer.

"I'm sleeping."

Creaking at the end of the bed tells me he's sitting. If I keep my eyes closed, then I can pretend he's still the same.

"Listen to me, okay?"

"I'm sleeping I said."

"Well, you can listen in your sleep."

"Fine. What is it?"

He lets out a heavy sigh. I don't want to look at him.

"I know things are different now. I know…you're having a hard time with this. I just want you to remember that it's still me. People change, Dez, and I've stayed consistent for so long."

"Then why can't you keep being consistent? Why all of a sudden, do you have to come as some handsome hero and try to save the world alongside the anti-hero? I liked you as _you_, ghoul and all. I guess it doesn't matter now, but…it did. It mattered…to me."

He stays silent, so I continue on, with my eyes closed and memories fueling my dialogue.

"You were the ghoul who wanted to kill me, the ghoul who saved me and the ghoul I fell in love with. You…you meant so much to me, as the only unchanging thing in my life. Sure you changed but it was for the _better_. It was emotionally and it was what you needed. You didn't need to become human, Charon. You didn't need…to become like everyone else."

"But I wanted to."

"For stupid and petty reasons, like everyone else."

"You have this sick obsession with being different and liking ugly things, don't you?"

Sitting up, I ignore my head and glare at him.

"You were _never_ ugly to me. You were more perfect and handsome to me, than even that stupid Prince Charming asshole who rescued those stupid damsels in distress. Why…why do you want to be like everyone else?"

"…Because I felt it was what you deserved."

"Well you felt wrong. I deserved you. As you. No more no less. I want to go to Rivet City and get you your leather armor and gun. If you don't want to, then stay here and I'll go. At least…at least then I'll have some reminder of the person you _were_."

I pull the blanket over my shoulders as I flop down to my side. I don't care how hot it is outside, the blanket protects me from it.

"…I still have my tags, Dez. I'm not…as different as you're making me out to be."

"But you're not the person who I was with that night in the abandoned house. I'm not sure, who you are anymore."

"What exactly are you basing this all on?"

"A woman's intuition. We ladies can sense these things. Like a sixth sense."

"Then who were you with that night if it wasn't me?"

"Someone better. Someone who didn't busy themselves with stupid things like looks. Someone who loved me, and wanted to be with me, despite what the world and outsiders thought. In that room, in that night, I was with someone who loved me more than life itself. I'm not sure anymore, who he is now. For all I know, he's dead."

It's a low-blow but I needed to say it. When you're me and these things happen, it's a huge personal change. I wish, that when I looked at him, there was still the exposed-muscle ghoul that I had looked at so many times in the past. I'm big on consistency, because it's never been in my life. When my only constant changes, then what am I to do? I can't tell you if this makes me a good person or not, for wanting the man I fell in love with, to still be that man. Instead, of some chiseled-featured human sitting at the end of the bed. I loved Charon for all his imperfections. For all his faults and veins and ghoul-ness. I can't respect him the same, knowing his choice was out of vanity, and not love. If it was for love, and he could somehow justify it by that and explain it to me, then…then I could consider accepting him. But I know it wasn't. I had thought, I found someone who cared about more important things, than if he looks good waking up in the morning.

"He's sitting right here. Feeling shameful for what he's done."

"Does this third-person narrative also come with the new body?"

"I can see why you're angry, and I can understand it. I'm sorry, that I didn't realize how much this bothered you before I did it."

"What's done is done. Look, I'm just grouchy and hungover, alright? Just, let me sleep this off and when I wake up we can go to Rivet City, alright?"

"Just tell me, how can I fix it?"

Turning my head, I look at him from over my shoulder. Charon. He's still Charon, and he made a mistake. It doesn't mean, he doesn't love me. I can't ask him to go back to the way he was, because that would be selfish. A relationship is a two-way street, and if he wants this, I have to give it to him. He's given me enough.

"There's nothing to fix. I'll get use to this, okay? Just remind me that you still love me and aren't going to run away when a good-looking girl gives you a flash of tits."

"I do love you, Dez, and I won't. Your tits are the only ones I want to see."

"You did last night. Can I sleep now?"

Leaning over, Charon kisses the top of my head.

"Why don't you come down and sit in the puddle for a while. I think that will do you better. Then we can go to Rivet City. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Peachy."

So I get out of bed and follow Charon down to the puddle. All the while, wondering what comes next. I follow Charon down to the irradiated puddle. On this bright day, Megaton looks the same as it ever did before. People walk up and down the rickety ram-rays, mindless chatter and gossip floats around, and the sun is ever so bright and ever so cheery. It's almost like the outside, never really got to them. As if they have no idea of the horrors, the crimes, the people and the outlandish way of life beyond these walls. I know that's a falsification, but it just bugs me. Bugs me that I'm one of the few people coming and going and actually trying to make this place better. Even if I don't like this world, Megaton, or the people inhabiting it, the Capital Wasteland is still my home. It has been since I was nineteen, and cast into the bright sun with a lot of adventure, fright, and a seriously bad eyesore.

Coming to the puddle, I stand at the edge of the water and look at my reflection in it. Irradiated water has this greenish glow to it, that pure water doesn't have. It makes me sad, when I look and see my reflection, to know that in a few years, I'll be dying. Dying, because stimpacks aren't my thing anymore, and radiation will be as rare as finding well…grass out here. I look at the scars on my face, each one showing and telling a new story, and my fingertips graze the indents and pink flesh of every individual one. I'm still not use, to the sight of my own face. I never look in a mirror, anyways.

"Hey, you going in?"

Charon's voice breaks my thought process. Blinking my big eyes in the puddle, I look up at him. His features are strong, well-defined and by all means handsome. His eyes, ice blue without the milky white film. He has plump lips, reddish pink and perfect for kissing. Dark red and brown hair is thick over the crown of his head, and his jaw and nose are perfectly defined and in tune. An artist, would find him the perfect specimen to draw. When I look at him, I merely see a stranger. A shell, I guess, of the man he used to be.

"Yeah…yeah."

Dipping my toes in, I let the radiation soak through the leather of my boots. Radiation isn't like water. It can go through anything, leather, Brahmin Skin, cloth, without making your socks wet. It's only seen in liquid form because well, it's a molecule. At least out here it is. They just amp it up in the water, and call it radiation. You can't see it, you know, when it's in its purest form. When it hits my calves, my headache begins to dissipate. I guess the miracle worker still works. Funny, how that is and all. Pretty soon I have no hangover, and my love for liquor is restored with my well-being. As I step out, I notice Charon standing a whole foot away from the edge of the puddle. I give him an odd look, but I don't say much of anything.

"Ready to go?"

"I want to say goodbye to Gob."

It'll be a sad day in the life of Dez, when I leave without saying goodbye to Gob. I'm sure I've done that before, you know, taken off without telling anyone, but now I think it needs to be done. Saying goodbye, I mean. Because I'm not certain if I'm going to return anymore. Walking up the ramps, as people pass me by without a second glance, I notice Charon's getting some attention from members of the opposite sex. I raise an eyebrow only when I notice he's walking a good distance from me.

"Why are you being distant?"

As the words come out of my mouth, I instantly regret turning around to say them. I've just caught Charon eyeing a girl who looks kind of like Jackie, but isn't. Those eyes and that look, was at one point meant for me and me only. What's happening to him? He looks back at me, but I give him no hint or notion that I witnessed anything.

"You're covered in radiation, don't want to risk anything."

Oh. Oh that's right. Because now all of a sudden he's some super special being that can't stand to be around us lower-class citizens founded from Atom himself, right? There's a mixture of emotions, forming in the pit of my being right now. They're too small to describe, but something tells me they're going to be new, and not easily dealt with. For now, I guess, I can ignore them. I want to focus on Gob right now, and hopefully walk in to see him just the same as I left him. When you're me, and all this has happened, you don't doubt what ten minutes can change.

Walking into the back room of Moria's, I smile at Gob. His back is to me, a clipboard in hand, as Zack plays with his toy car at his feet. I can see his spine shadowing through his white shirt, and the greenish tint he has to his leftover flesh. He's still the same. The same as he's always been. The same as I like him.

"Hey, Gob."

Charon's lagging behind me, giving Gob and I a rare moment alone. I haven't had time to talk with him, to tell him about how Charon's change is bothering me, to confide in him that I miss the old days. Back when Nova was alive, when Charon and I walked and treaded on glass and tip-toe around one another. It seems, looking back, there were a lot more smiles back then. Gob turns around, and it makes me smile. A warm feeling rises up inside, a feeling that an old friend can give you, when you really need it.

"You're headin' out again, aren't you?"

Gob puts the clipboard down on the shelf in front of him. I don't know what it says, and frankly I don't care. Without thinking, without using any rational sense or being able to base it on anything logical, I throw myself at Gob. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and fall into the nape of his neck. He feels the same, smells the same, the only thing different is his touch. That's only changed, because of what's changed between us. His hands fall around my waist, wrapping around and tightening with a slow hesitation.

"Hey, hey what's wrong?"

His voice is gruff and comforting in my ears. I don't want to leave him, leave his side and this place that's stayed the same no matter how much I change. Here…here I'm safe. I'm safe, in this town I've come to always return to.

"…Gob…"

It's all I can say. With the short time we have alone, and the long explanation that builds in my mind, I can't utter anything more. I don't want to leave him, this place, or any home I can make here, but I have to. If it means in a way, returning Charon to me. If it means getting him back into his leather armor, with his old gun in his hands, then I have to. Maybe…maybe if I do that, the parts of Charon that I love so much, and are slowly changing, will come back. Then…then I won't have to run to the arms of our best friend, for comfort he can't give.

"Look, listen…it'll be alright…"

I have to pull away before Gob can finish his words of comfort. Charon comes in the door, in time to see what he thinks was a regular hug shared between two friends. He didn't see me wipe the tears from my face, didn't see Gob's hands tightly wrapped around my waist. It makes me feel good, knowing something he doesn't.

"I'll be back, okay Gob?"

"I'll be here, kid."

Charon nods at me as I push past him, wanting to get outside before I lose my head again. He stays inside, to say goodbye and have a quick chat I guess. When I make it outside, I fumble for my pack of cigarettes. Finding them, I take one out and light it. A familiar moan comes from below, and I peer over the rail of Moria's. The two-headed Brahmin. He's still alive, still kicking. I smile at him, letting the childish ways of old Dezbe emerge for the moment. I wonder, though, why they have two heads. The door opening behind me, causes me to look and turn around. Charon comes out, a small sawed-off in his hand.

"Gob wanted me to give this to you. You ran off too fast for him to hand it over. Said he found it and repaired it."

"How'd he know I lost my other one?"

"I don't know."

I take it and hold the gun in my hand like it's glass. Gob thought of me while I was gone. It's nice to be reminded that you're thought of. I clip the gun to my waist, smiling proudly. Charon and I begin to walk in silence, with me puffing and dragging on my cigarette. Today, I'm pretending to be a fancy person on their way to a fancy place. When I open the gates of Megaton to the Capital Wasteland, it won't be the Capital Wasteland. It will be a beautiful place where everything is right and all my dead friends will greet me with warm smiles and cheerful words. Yeah. I'd like to see that happen.

"Hey Charon?"

"Hm?"

"Why's a Brahmin have two heads? And is it still a single thing with the two heads, or plural? It's bothering me."

"Because that's what happened when the bombs fell. Like everything else. I don't know about the last part."

"That's a dumb answer. So what's a Brahmin with one head?"

Charon looks at me as we step out into the Capital Wasteland, the hot sun on our faces, the hot dirt at our feet.

"A cow."

Well, points from me for my stupidity. Charon rolls his eyes and holds back a hearty chuckle. Tossing my cigarette aside I figure I don't need my Pip-Boy map. I've been out here for so long, that I figure I know this place fairly well. Charon on the other hand, doesn't trust my natural compass.

"You should put a marker on your map."

"Charon we _know_ this place already. Maps are old news now. We're experienced adventurers."

"You acting like a child tells me something is wrong. Have you knocked your head?"

I frown at him. So much for alleviating the depressing storm cloud that likes to follow me everywhere.

"No. Just trying to get some laughs in, I guess."

My happy persona dwindles, as we continue across the Wasteland. We make it relatively far, able to get underground and everything. Why, if things keep going this way, I'd say there's a bright Rivet City in my future. Maybe not 'bright' in the sunshine sense but…hopeful. Looking up at Charon, his eyes focused on something ahead that isn't there, his arms steady by his side, I wonder. Wonder if this is all for nothing. I've done a lot for him, more than I think he knows. This, is just another thing to do. Another thing to keep us together, to keep his mind together.

"Charon?"

He looks at me. We haven't spoken in hours. You know…you know they say something's wrong, when there's nothing left to say. There hasn't been anything to say between us all day long.

"Hm?"

"Charon what happened in Megaton? You know, with that chick?"

Charon looks at me. He doesn't answer right away. Safe below ground with no real threats nearby, we sit on the edge of a platform. One where I guess, people would get on the metro train and go places. Places further than we can walk. Lighting a cigarette, my feet dangle over the edge of the platform, my feet inches from the bottom. Charon looks nervous, uneasy, in the light of my Pip-Boy.

"What do you mean?"

I don't want to go into detail. I don't…want to have to say it. But I know I'm going to be forced to.

"…That look you gave that girl, you…you only ever gave it to me."

"Are you jealous?"

Excuse me? What kind of question is that?

"What? No I mean, Charon…I've never…had to deal with someone trying…to take you from me outside of Greta. It's…it's new. Are you going to? Leave, I mean. And should I worry? Charon this human thing, is it because of that?"

I've never felt 'not good enough'. At least, not with Charon. I guess even that, is the wrong terminology. But imagine this. Imagine the only person in the world, your only confident, companion, comfort, love, has the risk of leaving you. Not out of your own choice, not because of some kidnapping scheme, but because of some sweet young ass that sways by. I've never dealt with that with Charon before. Never had to deal with the risk of losing him to another, because frankly, I was the only one who wanted him. The only one, who saw his inner beauty and loved him immensely for that. Now, am I to be punished for it? Because he has this whole 'new look' about him, am I to lose him to the shallow endeavors of other females?

"Dez, I think you're taking this a bit too harsh. I think, you're being insecure."

I'm infuriated by his words. My hands grip the edge of the platform, while I clench my cigarette between my teeth.

"Charon I am _not_ feeling insecure."

"I'm enjoying being human. If that means getting and giving a few flirting looks, then so be it. Don't bother with stupid insecurities, Dez."

And three…two…one.

"May I _fucking_ remind you that if it wasn't for _me_ you wouldn't even know what 'flirting' is! And may I also remind you, if it wasn't for _me_ you wouldn't even _be _human right now!"

"So whatever happens is your fault and you can bear the cross that goes with it."

"What the hell happened to you? Did they give you a fucking lobotomy in Rivet City? Where the _fuck_ is Charon?"

"Right here."

"No. No, you're a sad, broken little economy of what Charon was. I'm not sure, who you are anymore. Or even, what."

I get up to walk away from him, for good I'm not sure. Before I can stand up, I feel his hand wrap around my wrist, and pull my arm.

"Sit back down I'm not through talking!"

"Charon! Let me _go_!"

I pull my arm from him and turn around. Hearing him get up, I look back in time to see his hands reach out and grab my shoulders.

"Charon! Stop it!"

"This is how you want to play, huh?"

"What? No! _Let me go!_"

Flashbacks of Butch in my old home in Megaton serve as a prophetic warning. Charon's by far stronger than me, and a lot heavier, but he has something I don't. And I utilize that, with my knee. Just as any man would do, Charon cripples over, and I lift my boot. Harder than I've ever kicked anyone before, I get him right in the corner of the jaw.

"_Never touch me again! Don't ever come near me again! I hate you!_"

I scream bloody hell at him. He lays on the floor in pain, as my brain registers what almost went down. I'm frozen in time for a minute. Frozen, with the crippled and broken image of Charon shattering completely before my eyes. Scared, shaking, defeated finally and broken myself, I run from him.

"Dezbe!"

He calls after me, my name echoing through the tunnels in this eerie and melodic way. It doesn't make me stop. I just keep running, running even though my lungs are screaming and begging for me to stop. What happened back there? What was it? That wasn't Charon. I mean, it was but…but he's changed. He's not the man I met, so many years ago in Underworld. Not the ghoul who saved me from untimely deaths so many times, not the ghoul who awkwardly kept me warm when the night air proved to be too cold. No, no that's not Charon. That Charon died in front of me, weeks and a month ago in the Capital Wasteland. I saw it happen. Who he is now, isn't what he once was. I can't love a monster like that.

Stopping finally, I fall against a wall in some obscure tunnel. It all looks the same to me at this point, as I take deep gasping breaths. My fingers press and dig against the concrete of the floor, my eyes feel like they're bulging from my skull, and my lungs are about to burst. None of that matters now, though. I'm scared. I'm scared because now…now I'm alone. I'd rather have believed Charon to be truly dead, that believe him to be this monster he's become. Why let that be my last memory of him? Why? Couldn't I have just remembered him as the person he was, before becoming human? Couldn't it be left at that?

"Fuck!"

I scream and hit the floors with my puny fists. I'll never hear those soft words of comfort, never feel his ragged skin against mine as we're caught in the heat of a beautiful moment. No. No I won't let that happen. Picking up the broken pieces of my unknown dreams, I stand, shakily. A new mission is presented to me now, a new test.

When I was young, I was told to follow my dreams. To my broken heart, to the fluffy clouds in the sky, I was told to never give up. I've been down, I've lost innocence, I've told lies and had those lies slapped back at me in the face. Since leaving the vault at nineteen, I've changed in amazing ways. For better, for worse, for all that is good and all that is bad. Moments, moments like this, the ones that break you, test you, try you and kick you when you're down, are the ones that make you strong. The ones that teach you. They're the true test of character and loyalty.

Defiantly, I stare down the tunnel. I take deep breaths, my own still lost to my aching lungs. Back there, Charon almost did a mortal sin. Something he never would have done to me before. Closing my eyes I try not to remember it, but I can't help it. The man back there, the monster, did things Charon would never do, because he's not Charon. He's a deluded and fucked up version of him. I blame only the test and medical research done to him at Rivet City. Last night, Charon was different. He was off in a way. Off, because he wasn't nearly as tender or forthcoming with _any_thing.

He's saved me countless times. The man I left back in the Capital Wasteland, the man hit with a stray bullet, forgave me when I did the unforgivable. Loved me, when I thought I was unlovable. Slept with me, when he was beaten his entire life if sexual urges were thought of. He sacrificed and changed his entire two-hundred plus years of living and training, for me. I am nothing special to anyone, except him. I fell in love with him, because of how he acted towards me. Because his love and care for me was quieter and greater than anyone else's in the world, and because in him I found comfort. I'm convinced, utterly convinced, the man that I love is still in there, somewhere. I'll get him back. I swear to the stars and moon above, the Charon I once knew and loved and would do anything for, will come back to me. If I have to hold a gun to his head and force him back into radiation, so be it. So fucking be it.

Morality and pride don't matter anymore. Now…now it's deeper than personal. Picking up my feet, I force them to continue onwards. I have to get to Rivet City. Charon will only get worse, only get more cocky and arrogant, as he continues on in this way. I refuse, to let a man of worth like he is, succumb to the asinine ways of humanity. I found him, when I was shrouded in impenetrable darkness. He became the light, at the end of my tunnel. He took my pain, my sins, my horrid moments, and shared them with me. Took the burden that is Dezbe, and added his name to it. I refuse, to abandon him now. Refuse, in insult the person he was, by letting him become worse than the person he is.

Anger fuels this decision. Anger, at the change, anger at the Brotherhood and _everyone_ who gave him the choice. It no longer matters, if Bigsley wanted to help. If Doc Barrows and Nurse Graves wanted to try their new 'innocent' experiment. It is _not_ worth losing him over. _Nothing_ is worth losing him over. I trudge onwards, my jaw clenching and my eyes narrowing. The worst of Dezbe, preparing and pushing and forcing her way to the surface. I'm going to show those rat bastards, there's no such thing as heaven. That there is no such thing as mercy. Even if I die fucking trying, at least I tried. You can't take the one holy thing from me, and make him into an unholy being. Don't think, that will sit will with me. I may have calmed down, but I am _still_ Dezbe. I am _still_ that angry, bitchy, and merciless little bitch from Vault 101 and it's time this goddamned world got a reminder of that.

Charon and I, for now, will be over. He can scream and cry my name all he wants, deeper and deeper into those tunnels. He knows, I'm going to Rivet City. If he doesn't meet me there then I will go and fucking find him. If I have to kill him myself, so be it. Letting him live, and become that horrible man, monster, would be worse than killing him. They're going to _fucking_ pay, for what they took from me. They're going to see. Watch. Just fucking watch me.


	34. Until the Day I Die

Opening my eyes, I let them adjust to my new surroundings. I had gotten so exhausted from the fight, from the running, that I found refuge at the platform that leads out to Anacostia Crossing. I'm sure if I really wanted to, I could have forced my body to at least get into Rivet City to rent a room. But I weighed the options, and found that they weren't in my favor. Instead of risking running into the Brotherhood while my body was depleted and exhausted, I opted to crash on an old mattress. They say to never go to bed angry, to finish the fight that night, and wake up with a fresh start. Until now, I didn't understand that saying.

Pushing myself up, I sit on the edge of the mattress. I'm still angry, and didn't sleep well at all. My Pip-Boy light is still on, and it makes me slightly annoyed. Angrily, I punch the buttons to turn it off. Sighing loudly, my breath echoes in the silence of the lobby. Not even a Feral Ghoul, to take my anger out on. I suppose that's best, after all. I mean, I wouldn't want to waste little and precious ammo on something so unimportant. No, I have bigger Mirelurks to fry.

Today I plan on charging into Rivet City gun drawn. Alright that's a bit more than exaggerating. What I really plan on doing is walking in and not drawing attention to myself. If I make it inside and down to wherever Barrows and Graves are hiding, then that's great and I'll be able to start talking with them. I want to retrieve the armor and gun from them, no matter the cost, and ask them if there's any known psychological side effects from this newly discovered antidote to ghoulification. If there's not than I'll have to add 'extreme douchbaggery' to their little notes of medical findings.

I'm not sure what I plan on accomplishing, with getting the leather armor and speaking to Barrows. Once I get the armor, then what? Do I go find Charon and make him put it on? What? I know it's not magically going to turn him into the person he once was, but at least it's a step in the right direction. Once the armor and gun are obtained, I figure from there I can map my best move. Charon will be looking for me, if he isn't half up my ass already, so I know this plan has to come quick.

Getting up, I begin to walk the last bit left to Rivet City. Thoughts and ideas tick mercilessly in my mind. When you're dealing with someone you love, the choices aren't always easy. If I didn't love him, I would let him go around getting all the girls and becoming this ultimate regular handsome asshole. There's far too much love and respect in my heart for him, to allow that kind of fate, to someone like him. Charon and I have seen hell together, and hell burns quite brightly. He's saved me from myself enough times for me to understand this. I don't think, that Charon's ever had to be saved from himself. I mean, aside from the whole 'contract brainwashing' thing, that is.

Lighting a cigarette, I keep my pace slow. I can't be brash and burst through the gates, in case Brotherhood are stationed around here. Even though, to be honest, the thought of them doesn't scare me. I have more important things on my mind. When I fell in love with Charon, I made a promise to myself. I promised I'd stand by him, as his friend, and if he wanted his lover. There have been times, times when I thought I hated him, like yesterday. There have been moments where we wanted to _kill_ each other, but in the end, we would sit and laugh and remember when. I've kept that promise, even when I was in New Vegas. I always came back to him, and he to me. Setting differences aside, we have always been a pair. Until the day I die, until the day I breathe my dying breath, Charon will _never_ be alone out here.

He reminds me of times, when I didn't know who I was, when I knew who I was becoming, and when I couldn't figure if I wanted to listen to good or bad. He himself, represents the ugliness in the world, but shows everyone, at least me, from that ugliness can stem an unmatched beauty. We've made mistakes, we've taken blame and fall for one another, and I hope with every fiber in my being that he knows I'm doing this all for him. That not one step, is without him in my heart. I won't bite my tongue anymore. I won't run and hide. Now, is the time I stand up and prove, that no matter what _anyone_ tries to do, Charon and I, and the love we've created for one another, will stand strong, proud, and triumphant.

I have traveled clear across this country, to come back only for him. Stepping into the light as I unlock the gate in front of me, I blink from the bright sunlight. I've seen the darkest forms of human nature, spent nights shivering alone in the dark with only his memory for warmth. Giving up hope isn't an option anymore. I don't care anymore, what happens between now and the end, so long as when the end comes, he'll be beside me. As the man he once was, the man who I knew, who saved me from myself that fateful first night so long ago. He is my superhero. My savior. My everything. I'll fight every day for him, if I have to.

Looking around Anacostia Crossing, I toss my burnt out cigarette into the cracked pavement. The sun is still low in the sky, telling me it's still early. No sign of the Brotherhood, and my compass tells me only green blots are in the area. The Brotherhood are bad, and would show up red. I smirk at this, as I stare at my Pip-Boy.

"Well, let's get going then."

I say to myself as I continue onwards. The warm sun is a nice change, to the damp and cool underground the metro tunnels house. My skin, warms up nicely, to the morning sun. Even though I know by mid-afternoon I'm going to be hating the heat. Least this morning, I'm not hungover in the least.

Walking up the ramp that leads to the bridge, no one gives me a second look. My heart is beating with adrenaline, with all the mercenaries around and everyone glancing at me from time to time, but I keep it cool. As long as I stay calm, and don't do anything that would bring attention to myself, I should be good. Taking deep breaths, I keep a steady pace. My boots clank against the steel, as the bridge comes within sight as I walk upwards. I'm relieved, when I'm able to cross it with literally no distractions or trouble. Letting out a deep sigh, I walk up to the Rivet City security guard and put my hands on my hips.

"I'm looking for Dr. Barrows."

He eyes me up and down, as if he recognizes me. I freeze up, scared that he might. Thankfully, he shows no notion of knowing me as he answers.

"He's down in the medical bay."

"Right, thank you."

I'm about to walk past him when he calls back to me. My hand is on the giant steering wheel-like knob.

"Hey, just a minute?"

I turn around, cautious, ready to grab my gun.

"Yeah?"

"Where you from? You're not wearing any kind of armor I've ever seen before."

Thank. God.

"Oh, I'm from The Pitt. I came here on an expedition and heard of Dr. Barrows medical research. I wanted to meet him."

"What kind of expedition?"

"Medical?"

"Oh, alright then. Carry on."

I could have face-palmed myself at that moment. Instead I hold back, hiding a smirk and shaking my head. Entering Rivet City is a huge relief, a weight off of my back. At least since I made it in safe, the chances of someone recognizing me now are slim. Rivet City is big, safe, and horribly lit. You'd have to be a real dope to recognize someone from far away. Even close up, you'd need to get nose-to-nose with them.

Doc Barrows is in the medical bay. Easy enough. It's been a while since I've been here, but I think I have it down. People walk and bustle around me, as I take a minute to remember how exactly to get to the medical bay. Sure there's signs right in front of me, but I want to prove to myself I can do it alone. Alright, so I can't. And there's no time for games, either. As much as I want to lighten this mood and laugh a bit, there's no room for that. I can tell you what, though, it's most definitely gotten more crowded in here since the last time I stopped by. Then again, I think the last time I stopped by was…well…was when I first kissed Charon. Isn't that nostalgic?

Going down the halls and following the yellowed signs, I bump into people and walls. No one utters an apology, so neither do I. Guess it's common around here to be shoulder-to-shoulder with people all the time. Hell, doesn't bother me. I just want to make it down to the med bay before Charon comes busting in here demanding to know where I am. That is…if he cares enough to come. No. No I can't think about that right now. I have to keep my mind on one thing.

When I eventually find the med bay, I don't stand in front of the door for a dramatic moment. Instead I just push it open, causing Barrows _and_ Graves to both look at me in a stupor.

"Can we help you?"

Graves asks, as I barge in to the center of the room. Barrows is holding a medical clipboard, and has a gun strapped to his waist. Graves isn't holding anything, but she still glares at me. I get right down to business.

"Barrows, it's me, Dez."

It takes them both a bit to remember me, but when they do their faces are filled with complete shock. Last time they laid eyes on yours truly was way before New Vegas. Actually, they were there when Charon and I bid a very sad farewell to one another.

"_Dezbe_?"

Barrows says, as if he's amazing.

"Yeah keep it down! I'm _undercover_!"

"Undercover as who?"

Graves never really liked me too much. I snarl at her and give my attention back to Barrows.

"Look, I came for some help. And for some things you're holding for Charon."

"Ah, yes. How is he doing? Walked out of here a fine, young man. I'm quite proud actually, of his medical advancement."

"Your marvel of modern science is a complete asshole. There any side effects to this? Like conceited, asinine, male personality disorders?"

Barrows and Graves exchange looks.

"I think you better tell her, Nurse Graves."

Graves nods, and leads me over to a chair. I sit down, and she sits on her desk across from me. As much as she may not like me, she's still polite when it matters. For that, I respect her. And I'm sure on some level, she respects me.

"We were worried about this. You say he's changed?"

"Yeah. Did a whole turnaround on his personality. He's exactly the opposite of what he was, and walking around like he owns the damned world…and every female in it."

"I see."

There's a tense moment of silence, and I light up a cigarette.

"So…"

I say. Time's really not on my side here.

"Listen, Dezbe sweetheart, Charon's reacting to his primal human personality. Basically, taking into account his upbringing, he's acting as any normal human male would when inside the body he's obtained. Since he has such a…unique background, Charon was never able to be as a normal human male. It seems now with the presence of his human self returned, he's able to regress back and enjoy life as he wanted. As was robbed of him."

"No matter how you dress it up Graves, it's not pretty. Charon's reaction to all of this…it's dangerous. He could hurt someone. A well-trained killer on the prowl for booze and women isn't a good mix. I just want to know if I can fix it."

"Dez, we're talking about a human here, not a toy."

"So there's no way? Not even if I make him stand in some radiation to _make_ him be a ghoul again?"

Barrows walks over and stands beside the sitting Graves. They give one another sad looks, and suddenly, the weight that was lifted just moments ago is back.

"It's psychological, not physical. Even if you were to somehow convince him to become a ghoul again, I doubt he'd be exactly as he was before."

"It doesn't matter so long as he's Charon in some way."

"Where is he now?"

"…I don't know. We got into a fight, and I left him in the metro tunnels."

I hang my head low. They know why Charon chose to be a human. They know, why he put himself through the pain and the suffering for it. I look like one selfish bitch.

"He tried to…rape me I think. I'm not sure, what he was trying to do exactly. I got scared. I panicked, and I ran. But we were on our way here anyways so I'm hoping he'll follow. It's just…I can't…I can't be around him when he's like this. Don't you understand that? When he came here why didn't you think that this was a bad idea?"

It's like I'm a child pleading with my parents to get a new puppy. Or asking why they gave away my new puppy. It's pathetic and degrading, but it's for Charon. I'll crawl through broken glass naked for him.

"We knew there were risks, and we knew there might be psychological damage, but we didn't know it would affect you so greatly."

Graves has a sympathetic tone in her voice. Being a woman, she must understand my conviction.

"Having someone tell you, they're your dead lover back from the grave, and then change so suddenly on you, usually wouldn't sit will with anyone."

They stare at me as I look up at them. They see the sadness and sulk in my eyes. They see, and they can see there's still hope.

"I don't think there's anything left to do at this point, Dez. If you can't be with him, leave him. You're still young. Go and see the world."

Barrows dismisses me like I'm a healed patient. He walks away to go back to whatever it was he was doing before, but Graves stays. She rests a rotted hand on my knee, offering me comfort.

"Remind him, then, sweetie."

Sweetie? I look up at her through hazy eyes. She smiles at me, a rare show of mercy, kindness, and sympathy. Here I was thinking I'd have to blast them to hell and yet…yet I don't. They're helping me. At least, Graves is.

"Remind him?"

"Remind him of who he was. I've known Charon a long time. A man like that, doesn't forget things. No matter how much he's changed, for good or bad over the years, he is still the same person you love deep inside. You just have to wade through the dirty parts to find him is all."

"How? How do I remind him when even being around him now proves somewhat dangerous?"

"As much as it kills me to say this, it's the truth. Dez, you might have to let him hurt you, to show him how much he's changed."

"…That makes no sense."

I stare at her, dumbfounded.

"Actually, she's right. I'm no shrink, but Nurse Graves is on to something. Allowing Charon to hurt you, which is something he would never have done before I assume, may just be the thing to open his eyes to what he's become."

"Yes, exactly. Honey, when a man loves someone as much as he loves you, the _last_ thing they want is to cause them harm. Even though you say he's entirely different now, you're still his priority. He will come to you at the end of the night. You have to be strong, and show him how much it's hurting you."

"I don't even know where to begin with showing him, or with telling you two how loony you are."

They laugh and shrug. Graves takes her hand off of my knee, and leaves me with a feeling of empty despair.

"Well, if he's not worth some pain, then why'd you come here?"

Graves really likes to challenge me, doesn't she? Ever hear of 'bi-polar'?

"I just don't understand how the solution can be that simple. I could have figured that out eventually."

"It might not be. We're just giving obvious suggestions. If Charon wants to change, or realizes he has changed, that's up to him to decide. You can't force someone to be something they don't want to be."

Believe me, Barrows, I know that better than anyone else. Trust me. Standing up, I sigh and put my cigarette out beneath my boot. The two ghoul doctors stare at me. I'm not sure now, what to do. I wasn't expecting an anti-human serum, even though it would be nice, but I also wasn't expecting to be told the most broad range of suggestions in the world, either. I was at least, hoping for some light in some direction. Not let Charon beat the piss out of me, cry about it, and cross my fingers he realizes the 'pain' he's caused. Well duh it hurt. You just fucking punched me in the face.

"Can I at least have his armor and gun back? I'm hoping that'll jolt his memory _before_ I have to risk my life."

"In the cabinet there."

Barrows acts like I'm some sort of annoyance to him. That's some greeting after not being seen for nearly six years, I tell you what. Walking over to the cabinet, I open it, and smile. In front of me, in pristine condition, is Charon's leather armor. Up top on a shelf, sits his customized combat shotgun. Quickly, I reach for it. Sometimes I get this feeling that people will take things from me, right as I have them in my grasp. I don't want that, with these items. When they're in my arms, I can't stop smiling like a loon. Finally, something out here, went smoothly.

"Look don't tell anyone you saw me, alright?"

"Don't worry Bigsley informed us. Listen if you want help, why not go to him? He might know more than me or Nurse Graves?"

"I might. Right now I need to stay here in Rivet City. At least for the night. Does Vera still run her room and board?"

"Yeah she sure does. Has a mouth, that thing."

Nurse Graves says as she goes back to helping Barrows. It's like I'm not even here. Strangely, I'm okay with that. Taking what's rightfully mine, I leave the medical bay and let them get back to there super duper secret work on researching a better way to fuck with people's lives. I should drop them a thank-you letter on my way out of Rivet City tomorrow. You know, kind of like 'Oh hey thanks for taking my perfect and awesome boyfriend from me and making him a total ass. Know you were trying to help, but next time, don't.'. Something like that, you know.

Of course I get strange looks as I clumsily try to navigate the halls. I can't see over the height and weight of Charon's armor, and I'm also trying to shuffle his gun, too. I didn't check to see if the safety was on, so an accidental fire is most likely going to happen right now. In Rivet City, too, everyone carries guns. So it wouldn't be like a 'sorry' incident. I'd be shot dead. Well, maybe not dead but something close to it. I can't have that going down when I'm formulating this awesome plan now, can I?

'Awesome' may not be the right way to describe my plan. I'm throwing it together really, as I walk and shuffle along the already narrow halls and try not to bump into people. What Barrows and Graves said though, holds some water. If Charon can in fact, be reminded of who he was, then there is hope. There is. It doesn't have to be big or small, I figure I can take baby steps and hope for the best. If it doesn't work, then I'm going to have to risk my own life. Maybe not my life, because I know Charon would never hurt me, but some good minutes. Minutes where I have to deal with the fact that the man causing me whatever harm he decides to do, is also the man I love and am trying to get back. If that doesn't fuck my head up, nothing can.

Bringing the armor down a bit, so I can read the signs on the wall better, I notice that I'm not too far away from Vera's. It's amazing the fucking bitch is still alive. Last memory I have of her is her trash-talking me all over this place. About Charon, of course. I bet now everyone would swoon over him and think I was some sort of religious icon for snatching him up. Which wouldn't be all that bad if he hadn't tried to attack me. Which still bothers me, by the way.

"I'd like a room. With a shower."

I tell the robot, purposely hiding behind the armor.

"You'll have to pay up front."

"Hang on."

Dumping the stack on the counter, I fish in my pockets. Believe it or not, I've actually been cap-hunting this whole time. It's not too hard, looking on the ground, raiding dead bodies, opening some desk drawers. You'd be amazed at what you can find. Of course I did most of this with Jackie to show her that what I find is mine, and what she finds is also mine.

"Here."

I say, dumping the caps on the counter and scooping up my stuff.

"First door down the hall in back to the right."

"Thanks."

My response isn't warmhearted at all, but it suffices. After all he's just a robot. Plus he reminds me of Wadsworth. I miss my old house, my old life, just about everything back then I miss. If I could, I'd go back. Not just to warn my younger and more extravagant self, but to enjoy it. Appreciate it while it was there, you know? You'd think after living out here for so long, you'd realize that tomorrow is never promised. You don't, though.

That exact thought hits me, as I put Charon's armor and gun on the bed. For all I know, this could be all that's left of him. Tomorrow, may not happen. He may not come here, and I may never find him. There's only so many placed in this world he can be, though. Well, in the Capital Wasteland. Charon doesn't seem like the type, to up and travel away from the Wasteland when he's only got a half-assed SMG. I'm sure there's a couple weeks left, to hurry up and find him, before he goes off. Hopefully, too, between then and now, he won't be caught dead. I didn't leave him with any medical supplies, well, because I don't have any. What's the point when all I need is a small supply of radiation? A part of me though, really wishes I didn't leave him there like that. Sure he probably deserved the kick in the face but…not to be alone. He needs me now, more than he realizes. I just hope that…in the end he understands all of this.

Running my hands over the smooth and worn leather, I pick up the sleeve of it. Bringing it to my face, I let it rub my cheek. A whiff of a familiar scent invades my senses. Charon. Utterly, purely, Charon. The sensation brings a gentle mood to me, letting me close my eyes and soak in the warmth that comes from the memory. So many nights, this armor would keep me warm. A dying fire, or none at all, wouldn't compare to the heat and comfort this provided.

Shaking my head, I drop the armor sleeve and stand up. There's no use in dwelling. Undressing as I walk to the bathroom, I leave a trail of clothes behind me. Naked, in the shower, I turn on the hot water. It's been so long, since I've felt clean and fresh water. I've forgotten, how nice it is. How relaxing, it can be. Radiated water is good, but there's just something about stepping into a hot, fresh shower that has this liberating sense about it.

The water trails down my face, as I lift my head and close my eyes. It's silent, with just the noise of the water streaming down. I can't hear the voices of Rivet City, can't hear the creaks and groans of the old warship. All I can hear are my own thoughts, as they present images of notes to me. Music. My only comfort in my mind, the only thing I feel can portray beautiful and unrefined emotions. The only thing, Charon and I share a beautiful adornment for.

"You were my one companion…"

I sing an old song, from an even older piece of music. I can't tell you where it's from, only that in the vault my music teacher held it in high regard. I remember to this day, the notes on the sheet music, the lyrics dancing above them. I didn't know back then, what it was about. I was too young I suppose. Now, at least I can state an idea. Maybe the singer, sings of a lost love, forever begging them to return but knowing they can't. Knowing in a way they're dead.

Without any thought otherwise, I let my voice carry high notes. I release two days almost, worth of stress and emotions. Singing, playing the piano, they've been my only sweet real releases from this life. I've never sung a duet before, not one seriously anyways, but I'd like to try. Like to do something like that, before I die. I'm not sure but I've realized most people in the Wasteland don't even know what sheet music is, let alone read it. Maybe there's some ghouls out there, who could sing with me, their guttural voices being the perfect balance to my own.

"…Wishing I could hear your voice again…"

Charon would. Charon would sing with me, if I asked him to. He might even play the piano alongside, too. Maybe, maybe he even knows where this piece is from. I doubt it. My music teacher said it was older than the Great War, and even then it was counted as old. I'm saying a few hundred centuries old. It'd be before Charon's time. Then again, Charon is very well-read and well-educated. You never know. Maybe, just…just maybe.

Stepping out after I turn off the water, I dry and dress myself. The room is empty, and it's having this negative effect on me.

"I'm too cooped up."

I mutter, grabbing my gun and snapping it to my waist. It's probably not smart to take advantage of things, and people not recognizing me, but I can't stay in such a small room. I have to at least stay in Rivet City for one night, to give Charon time to catch up. If he's following me, anyways. If tomorrow I wake up, and he's not here by the afternoon, I'll go looking for him. It would be stupid to leave now, and risk missing him along the way. Then we'd be in a bigger mess than we already are. All I can do now, is hope he is following me. Something tells me, a negative voice in the back of my mind, that he isn't.


	35. I'm Barely Here

Down at the Muddy Rudder, I stare into the clear shot of vodka in front of me. People are coming in and out of place, people I recognize, and people I don't. Whether or not they talk to me, doesn't matter. It's not like they're rushing to start conversation with the mysterious and pretty new girl staring longingly into her cup. But I'm not bothered. I'd rather be alone, right?

Truth of the matter is, I can't shake Charon from my mind. See I just have this huge hankering that he's not coming. That his asinine personality has finally taken him over so much, he needs to go and…well, live his life as a human. Who am I to stop that? Who am I to say it's wrong, too? If I go and try to prevent this, try and make him like he was before, then I don't think I'm any different than the people who trained him. It's a moral dilemma. One I'd like to avoid and rather have the solution handed to me. Listless, sighing, I decide that maybe, to sleep a few days on this choice. If you love something, let it go…right? Bullshit.

"Excuse me?"

A deep, booming voice comes from my left side. I glance over, my arms slumped around my drink at the bar, and if I had hair it would hide my face from this person. Then again if I had hair, they'd all recognize me.

"Yeah?"

I look up to see a man behind clear sunglasses, staring down at me. Instantly I recognize the beret he wears as an NCR one, and also see his large stance and physique means he either was or is part of the New California Republic. When I was in New Vegas, those motherfuckers were just wee little offshoots of the Brotherhood. I'm almost scared to ask what's become of them, and the strip.

"You look like you could use a drink."

He has a deep and clear voice, husky, really. No defining traits, nothing special, no cool scars or markings. Just some NCR guy drifting into the Capital Wasteland. Welcome to the East Coast, where everything is a helluvalot better.

"Already got one. Thanks though."

"Names Boone. Craig Boone."

I don't introduce myself, for fear of my life being compromised, but I do shake his hand.

"Gonna add a number after that, Boone?"

"Huh?"

Charon would have gotten the joke. Instead I roll my eyes and take a sip from my shot. I really should just drink the damned thing.

"Nothing. Wanna tell me what brings an NCR troop over to this neck of the country? Seems like there's a lot of New Vegas individuals stalking their way Eastward…"

Boone's shocked that I know where he's from. I give him a sideways look, as he orders a beer from the barkeep. All female eyes in this room are on him. Why is it I, who isn't very physically attractive with scars and all, seem to attract strong, dangerous and handsome men? I'm not complaining in the least, only saying their arrivals are pretty horribly timed.

"I'm surprised you know where I'm from."

"I been to New Vegas. It's nothing compared to here."

"That's a bold statement, little girl."

"I'm anything _but_ little."

Finishing my shot I kick off of the barstool and begin to walk away from the Muddy Rudder. I have to stop at the Rivet City market to get a pack to keep the leather armor in, in case of travels. Also, I need some new ammo, and shoving a couple of medical supplies in there wouldn't hurt, either. Aw, look, it's just like the old days.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

Pushing open the door that leads to more stairwells, Boone decides to follow me. I hold the door for him, and let it go once his face comes close enough. Fast reflexes prevent my cartoonish display of not wanting him to follow. Alright, Boone, you've got my attention.

"What?"

I snap, focused more on my own business.

"You said you went to New Vegas? When?"

"Year and a half ago. Spent five years there. Never saw you, if that's what you're wondering."

"So you've heard of Legion?"

"Yup."

"And?"

"And frankly Boone I didn't give a shit, and don't give a shit. Not my neck of the woods, never bothered me, not a problem. That's why I came here. You got the bad guys, the bad guys pretending to be good guys. No gang shit, no messy reputations to withhold, cut and dry. Whatever the Legion's business is out there, is none of mine."

"Pretty quick to disassociate yourself with New Vegas, even though you're claiming to have spent five years there."

"I lived with a ghoul named Raul, beat a few hundred rounds of Roulette and Blackjack, and made some caps trading shit for silver."

"Raul? The Mexican ghoul gunslinger?"

I light up a cigarette and start to climb up the steps. I don't want to be seen in the market with such a tall and thick guy as Boone, so I figure if he's going to talk to me we can take it up to the flight deck. Least then I can just jump to my death if he annoys me. Look at that, backtracking. Oh, memories.

"Yup. That's the one."

"I've heard of him. He left the Mojave Wasteland not too long ago."

"And came here."

"You're kidding me?"

Boone grabs my arm as we walk up the steps, trying to get me to face him. I pull free, and continue walking.

"You know, it's not nice to touch a lady."

"Sorry. Just arrived out here. Not sure of the environment, have to keep on my toes."

"Right."

I still don't know what his interest is in me, or why he decided to talk to me. We come up to the flight deck, and I breathe in a fresh breath of air. The sun is still high, but I can tell it's going to set soon enough.

"You never mentioned your name."

"A wanted criminal usually doesn't."

Boone's shocked and hesitates on sitting down. Me? I got my legs over the edge and the wind at my face. Plus, for the moment, not a care in the world as I overlook my home of the Capital Wasteland.

"What are you wanted for?"

Boone says as he sits next to me, lighting his own cigarette. Lucky Strikes, exclusive to the New Vegas area.

"Thing I had no control over. Innocent until proven guilty isn't really known in these parts."

"I see. So you won't tell me your name, but you'll tell me you're wanted?"

"_Everyone_ out here is wanted by someone for something. I'm wanted by something bigger than a few knockoff kills."

"The Brotherhood, eh?"

I pull my gun and he pulls his. Faster than that we're standing. There's a scope on his Hunting Rifle, and I hold back a laugh at that. A scope on that kind of gun is pretty pointless. Like the scope on a .44 Magnum. Break your eye-socket is all that's good for.

"Did I say something to upset you?"

Boone asks, neither one of us taking their finger off the trigger. I suppose now is best a time than ever.

"My name is Dezbe. I'm wanted for the destruction of the Citadel, the backstabbing of the Brotherhood of Steel, and the bombing of the Enclave base. Also more things, but I don't think they're that important."

"And I thought you said you were innocent?"

"I am. I did everything I did for the right reasons."

"Blowing up a military base hardly seems right."

"It is when they've lied, cheated, and stolen all that you've come to care about in this world."

Surprisingly, Boone lowers his gun. I hesitate, but eventually holster mine, too. He looks at me, with a small sense of understanding in his eyes.

"So, you got fucked over too?"

Ah, comrade, you do understand. Sticking out my right hand, I shake his.

"It's nice to meet you, Boone. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"It's nice to meet you too, Dezbe. I'm here for a bit of adventure. Laid dormant for far too long and lost the taste of the Mojave Wasteland."

"A thrill-seeker."

"You could say that."

We stop hand-shaking and I nod my head. Turning to view the scenery, Boone and I make friendly conversation.

"You have some interesting scars there, Dezbe."

"It's just 'Dez'."

"Any just as interesting stories behind them?"

"Sure are."

Silence because I don't want to share them. I have to get back to reality, and stop flirting with the thought of running away from it all. Boone, you know, stands at the same height at Charon almost. Had I not seen the human form of Charon, I would have said these two looked a lot a like. Other than physique, though, they're about as similar as night and day. So far.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"I have things to get back to. Telling you would require too much time."

"Have something you need to do?"

"Yes."

Boone follows me as I head back down inside Rivet City. I still have to go to the market, but I don't think Boone is going to get off my ass that easy. What is it that makes these boys so attracted to me? Find some other gal in the Muddy Rudder. It'd be a lot easier and I wasn't the only one.

"What's so important that you can't take the time to make a new friend?"

"Someone very close to me was taken away, in a sense. Right now I'm figuring if it's worth fighting for."

Boone's footsteps fall silent, and I turn around. Not because I want him to follow me, and am seeing why he stopped, but because a second ago he was so adamant about following me. Looking back, I see he's almost frozen in place. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses.

"It's always worth fighting for."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew the full story."

I stare at him, and he stares at me. Sadness, wells up at the thought of Charon and I turn around. Crying, in front of a new person, is never really a great first impression. Walking a bit faster, I try to make some distance between Boone and me so then…then maybe he won't see just how torn up about this I am. I'm not looking for sympathy from strangers. I just want to do what's right by the person I love. Dirtying it up with people who don't know their ass from their elbow in the situation, won't help.

"Dez, listen."

I turn around right quick and point a menacing finger at Boone.

"_Don't_ say my name!"

There's no one on this section of the boat, but it's still a risk. I don't know how well-monitored Rivet City is, and don't want to risk finding out, either. Carelessly, Boone swipes my finger away, sticking to the initial subject.

"Whatever the story may be, trust me, it's worth it. If this person is someone you care for deeply, than you must do whatever it takes to get them back."

"You sound like you're talking from experience."

"I am."

Ouch. Sometimes I hate when I'm right.

"Let me come help you. It can be…it can be hard, doing something like this alone."

Oh yeah, right, New Vegas. See I'd had this little slip of my mind. People out there practically throw themselves at you to let them come with you. Raul being one of those people. Boone, apparently, being another. Southern hospitality? Far from it. Unyielding need to feel a part of something and shoot as many things in the process? Bingo. Just a minute ago Boone and I met down in the Muddy Rudder. Now, he wants to link arms and skip off into the sunset. Shit an extra gun won't hurt.

"If you want to. But don't get in the way and when shit hits the fan you better be ready to help _me_ no matter what."

"I got it."

"And don't get in my way. And once this is done, we part ways, got it?"

"Sure do."

"Alright let's go."

I lead him down to the market and begin to look at the various things that could be used as packs. Nothing of interest really catches me, but I do catch Boone looking at some of the ware on the side of guns. Hey, each to his own. I carry one gun, and one gun only. Never hurts to dawn more, I guess. Just that, I'm more of this lone ranger type person and the less bulk I have, the faster I can get in, shoot, and get out. It bothers me, that I just may have to carry around Charon's armor and all these medical supplies. For one I'll have more weight on me, and for two…two it means Charon didn't want to follow me.

Thinking…thinking he didn't makes me stop in place. Around me turns to blurs and jambled noise. It doesn't matter. Charon may have become so lost to his former self that…that I might not be important to him anymore. It's hard to say, honestly, if he wants this life or if I want to pick his life for him.

"Alright there?"

Boone comes up behind me, his voice shaking me out of my stupor. I turn around, noticing he has a leather sack in his hand.

"What? Oh yeah. What's that?"

"Oh, you like it? Figure I could help carry some of the load."

"Right. Right…yeah. That's fine."

Pushing past Boone, I don't bother with another pack. He can carry the leather armor, and I'll just use radiation to heal myself. Why waste my money on medical supplies for someone other than me? After all I hardly know this fellow. Not like we're going to fall in love and fuck, like Charon and I so blatantly did. He's just an extra gun, and maybe some use of conversation. As we walk back to Vera's, he doesn't know where we're going by the way, I quickly realize aside from introductions, Boone's quite the quiet fellow. Whatever. Suits me just fine.

"Late-afternoon."

The robot greets me as I walk past. Boone hesitates at entering my room, and I catch him standing in the doorway of it.

"It's not going to bite."

"Entering a lady's room without permission is not polite."

You're kidding me, right? Please, please tell me you're kidding me.

"Manners don't matter much out here, Boone."

"Thought they did when you said something earlier."

Oh look at that, it's sarcasm. Isn't that cute?

"Very funny. Here, give me that sack."

Snatching it out of Boone's hands, I busily shove the armor into it. Out of the corner of my eye I notice him reaching for Charon's gun.

"Don't touch that!"

My shrill command catches him off guard and he drops the gun on the bed.

"Just…just don't touch it, alright?"

"Something to do with the person you're trying to save?"

"I wouldn't use 'save' in such a broad spectrum. Just don't touch it."

"It's a man's gun. This person a husband?"

"No."

"Friend?"

"Somewhere in the middle. And we're not going in and saving him from masked gang members, either. Just…just give me the gun."

He hands it to me and I give him the pack. Putting Charon's shotgun on my back, I feel the weight of it pressing up against me. Wait, why am I packing up now? I paid for this room and fuck, I'm going to stay in it. So I take the gun off and lean it against the wall. Sitting on my bed I light a cigarette, as Boone looks around. He was expecting to go somewhere.

"Well?"

Boone asks, uncomfortable.

"Well what?"

"Are we going?"

See, I told you.

"I paid for this room, I'm staying in it. Go rent another room or pull up a piece of steel. We'll leave tomorrow."

"Wouldn't it be wiser if we left now? Save time, and all."

Sighing, I lean back against the wall with only my feet dangling over the edge of the bed.

"I'm seeing if he'll follow me here, first."

"Wait, aren't we 'saving' him?"

"We are. I suppose I should give some broad explanation?"

"That would make this a lot easier."

"…Right…what to say…alright. This individual seems to have suffered a severe lapse in judgment. He's forgotten who he was, and became something dirty and foul. I'm dealing with the morality on if it's worth wasting my time on, if he wants to be rescued from himself, and if in the end this is even sounding like a good idea."

Boone stares at me and I shove the burning end of my cigarette into the wall.

"What made him change?"

"Story for another day. Just…trying to keep this professional, Boone."

"I can understand that. Like I said before, though, if he means something to you it's worth fighting over."

I shrug his sentence off and don't answer. He doesn't know the full story and I'm not about to pour my heart and soul out to him. I kind of want him to leave, actually. Aside from Raul and Charon, I can't really remember if I've really traveled with anyone else like this. It's awkward. So awkward in fact, I have to light another cigarette. Boone sits down, and something falls to the pit of my stomach.

"Not much goin' to get said here, huh?"

"Not much of a talker, Boone."

"Me neither."

"Good."

Alright then there we have it. Time passes slowly, as cigarette after cigarette is smoked. I'm sure now, he's testing me to see if I'll crack. Truth is I won't. Real truth is I can't find comfort in Boone's presence. Not that he's creeping me out or any such thing but…sometimes a girl needs to do things alone. Think about things, run, grow. Ponder. Boone is here for help, not for advice or a shoulder to cry on. Even though honestly he doesn't look like the 'caring' type. Which believe me is a-ok with me.

"I'm going to rent my own room. I'll meet you here in the morning."

I nod, without giving a reply. Boone exits my room, the steel door closing behind him. Random, stranger things, have happened you know. I find now, running into a stranger who wants to join you isn't all that uncommon. Especially if they're from New Vegas. I'm glad he left, though. Even though it's still early in the night, being secretly depressed has such a tiring toll on me.

Opening the leather bag, I pull out Charon's armor. Tears, push into my eyes, but don't fall down my cheeks. Big girls, we don't cry anymore. We just don't. But…I'm not sure if I'm really all that big of a girl. Pressing the chest of the armor to my face, I pull it over my head. It's big on me. Huge, baggy, room to spare, you get the idea. The one sleeve hangs over my fingertips, reminding me of Charon's large size. He could weigh roughly two-hundred and ten pounds. It's his size, that made me feel so safe. His scent, engulfs me as I raise the sleeve to my nose.

Laying on the bed, wrapped in Charon's armor, I use my arm as a pillow as I stare blankly at the steel wall. I have thinking to do. I have to decide before tomorrow breaks, what I'm going to do. His whole life, Charon's been doing something for someone else. Brainwashed, to serve and please. He's never had such a free will as he does now. Never, been able to enjoy the small pleasures of being human, that most of us take for granted. So now I have to ask myself, is it wrong? Wrong, for me to want to bring him back to the ghoul that I love? Is it another form of brainwashing and manipulating? A part of me thinks so. Thinks that what I'm doing is simply no better than those who created the merciless killer of him.

Another…another part of me doesn't see it that way. Wanting him back, is an innocent want, right? The want and love and comfort he offered before, is something any girl in my position would desire. I may not agree with how he's acting, but does that justify creating him in the way that I loved? Or…or is it an honest belief that Charon may not know the difference, because he's undergone so much in such a short time? I suppose…suppose the least I can do…is return his belongings to him. It seems right now, the path of least resistance, isn't making him come back to me, but instead letting him choose what he wants to do. Just like…like he let me go to New Vegas. I wanted him to chase me then, though, but he didn't. I don't know what's right.

Then…I guess I have to do what I think is right. When the time comes, I hope…hope that he knows my choice is all about him. All about, what not just I want, but what he wants, too. Sometimes, a part of growing up, is giving up your most prized possession. Charon by no means is mine, but…he's been a part of me. If he hurts, I do too. If he jumps off of a bridge, well then I'd laugh my ass off until he climbed back up. Later, we'd laugh about it together. Fairy tales, though, they don't always have happy endings. Sometimes they end in bittersweet cliffhangers. Mine, won't, though. I'm going to miss him, more than I've missed any other thing in my life, but I have to be strong.

I'll find him, and return these small things to him. I'll talk to him, and ask him what he wants. It'll be up to him, to choose his fate. As it should be. If he says he'd rather us part ways, I'll be hurt, but I'll understand. Even now, as I softly cry against my own wishes into the rough leather armor, I understand. A part of him, will always love me. Just as I'll always love him. Sometimes, life takes people to dark and strange places. It's better, to leave it at that, and let everyone walk their separate ways. I don't want him to go, but it's no longer my choice. I'll fight for him, as much as I can, and will try to tell him this when I see him, but…there's only so much I can do, without overstepping the fine line of control and manipulation.

Charon…my only love, my only constant. How hard it is, to choose between having him back, and letting him go. He came back to me, because he loved me. I know…I know the old Charon is still there. Buried beneath a handsome face and bulging biceps. He's still there, and I know he's the one telling Charon now to come back to me. Just…just I'm not sure if old Charon has enough power anymore. The thought of him looking me in the eyes, and turning away as he says 'no' kills me. But…in the end, I have to do what's right. Whatever it may be, I have to do it. I have…I have to grow up, and let some things go. There are some things, people have to do alone. I just…hope…I can do it. And I hope, he knows, no matter how much space or time between us, I'll always love him, and be there when he needs me. Years from now, if he decides to leave and return, I'll still be here. Patiently waiting for him, just as I've always been. Patient, wanting, and loving every minute, for when he comes back. He'll come, too, I tell myself. Because there's never been a time when he hasn't.


	36. Better Than Me

(Charon)

The fires of Hell burn brightly around me, as I cringe in pain. Pain, unbearable, unflinching, unrelenting, constant. I can't give into it, can't let it be known how much this hurts, because it was not what I was trained to do. I have to press onwards, the memory of John fresh in my mind. Press, and force, my body to do these things, to keep these people safe. I have a weapon. I am the only one with one. Mercilessly, as the fires of hell engulf the world around and I stand in the doorway to the entrance of the only safe place, I squeeze the trigger.

The blast rings in my ears, familiar, and deafening me to the cries and screams of men, women, and even children. More blood on my hands is nothing. My objective is to protect these people, these people who hide and seek refuge behind me. I cannot, let anyone pass. Cannot falter. In front of me a burned mother clings to a dead child. Her cries make everything stop. The flames, the flames that engulf the once popular and beautiful mall, pop, burn, and crackle in the silence. The mother falls to her knees, her hair bunt, her body covered in disgusting wounds from the flames, and radiation. The ash that falls covers everyone in a thick black soot. But the child. The child she holds close to her beating breast is as clean and pale as milk. His eyes are closed, and I stare at him. It takes me time, before I realize…he has no eyes.

Waking in a cold sweat, I look around after forcing my eyes open. The cool underground air of the metro tunnels greet me, and I put a hand over my racing heart.

"…Fuck…"

I sigh, lighting a cigarette. At first I jump at the light of my own human hand, but then I remember. I remember, and I wish I had still been staring into the horrible depths and memories of my own mind. Inhaling the smoke, I know that by now, Dez should be in Rivet City. There's no doubt she's still going there. I would have followed her, but right now, I can't face her. I'm too full of shame. Shame, and regret.

Running my fingers through my hair as I smoke my cigarette, I bring my knees to my chest and sit on my tailbone. I can't tell you anymore, who I am. I can't explain things, nor can I give reason to my recent actions. All I can truly say is that right now I regret them. Regret the look I gave the girl in Megaton, regret how I handled the situation with Dez, and regret what I almost did to her. I'm scared though, that in a few minutes, I'll lose control and feel proud of it. I wish, there was a way to define what it is that's going on in my mind.

I feel like myself. As well as I would know myself, that is. But…but sometimes I get lost. I can't think of any other way to put it, but…that's it. I don't feel like I did. Like a disciplined and trained mercenary, who can act as a human, care, and be cared for. Instead sometimes, I lose control and feel exactly like Dez described. Everyone else. I wish I knew when this was happening, or how I could prevent it, but I don't. Each day, I've realized, it gets harder and harder to stop it, or even now to notice it.

There's a sick pleasure in it, too. I've never known that I could get anyone I wanted. That I had this power or whatnot. My entire life, I was never allowed to feel such animalistic desires, desires you and others would see as normal. The simple male wanting to simply have sex and drink the night away. By the time I had the chance to, I was a ghoul. And even then, after Dezbe, I was still a ghoul. Now, I'm not. I am human. It seems, the only reason I can give, that after so many hundreds of years of repression, these desires and urges are coming out.

Not even in an entire sexual manner, either. Ways in which I wouldn't have ever guessed. Flirtatious looks that I didn't know I was able to give, glances and movements I didn't know I was capable of doing. It catches me by surprise, and when I look back I'm disgusted by my behavior. Gob frightened me, when he said that in the end I enjoyed sex with Jackie. It scared me, and put the warning sings up in my mind that I may be becoming something I necessarily do not enjoy. Yet I can't begin to ask how to stop it, or control it.

When I sleep now, too, I'm haunted by the vivid pictures and memories from my past. I can't explain that, either. Maybe being human has heightened my senses. Then again I've always had vivid dreams, since I was rid of my contract that is. Vivid, colorful, realistic dreams that just simply seem to happen. Some are horrid memories, and some are ones I would call 'enjoyable'. Moments with John in his apartment, talking and conversing on intelligent topics. It's never happened before, though. My memories, are often kept locked away. After all, no one seeks pleasure, from remembering the horrors of warfare.

Blowing smoke from my lips, I know I should in every right chase after Dez. I want to, too, but I won't let myself. I'm scared and ashamed. Scared, that once I find her in Rivet City, I'll act the same as I did hours ago. Brutal, cold, arrogant…I can't. I can't put her or myself in that position. Haven't I already hurt the girl enough? Why must I continue to do so? No, no I can't follow her. I can't until I can figure out who I am now. Who it is, I'm becoming with this new skin, and if in the end it is worth it. Is she worth it? Are those around me, worth it?

Putting out my cigarette, I hold my head shamefully in my hands. If I went to her, how could I possibly face her? How could I even begin to explain myself, without losing myself? I can't. I can't trust myself to. The…the thrill of knowing I can walk into a town, and with a few choice words and well-placed smirk I can have a female by my side for the night. Of going somewhere, and knowing no one will berate or harass me, of arriving in a room and having no one look up, other than wondering at who the man is. It's a thrill I've never been able to enjoy. But is it worth giving up Dez for? Is it wrong…if I say I can't choose?

Standing up, I hold the small SMG in the palms of my hands. This is something, I must think about, and think about quickly. Dezbe…she deserves more than what I have to offer right now. She deserves the person I once was, and more. I can still feel her body in my arms, as I carried her back to Tenpenny Tower. I can still feel, her hair in my face, as we take gasping breaths from moments of pleasure. But…who I'm becoming, isn't what she needs. Am I selfless enough, to give something up I've never had before, to be with her?

The question should answer itself, and I'm ashamed to say, it can't. Love, is magic. It's not logical, and it is madness. It makes people do things, say things, that maybe they wouldn't normally do. In a way, love works its strings of fate, and creates situations where in the end things will work out, although at the moment it hurts. Being with Dezbe, is one of the best things I've had. Being human, is something I've never been able to fully enjoy. I was hoping, to have the best of both worlds. To be able, to be human, and be with her. I see now, that's not going to be possible.

Walking back towards Megaton, I hang my head in shame. It began, with Jackie. With her unrelenting persistence of me. Aside from Greta, that's never happened. It awoke something inside. Something that's never been roused before. I can't face Dezbe, until I've figured out what this wolf-faced demon inside of me is. As much…as much as I want to turn around and return to her side, I know in doing so I'll only simply disappoint and hurt her. Knowing now, I've hurt her again, kills me inside While at the same time, a voice tells me to forget her and have my pickings. To have a cold beer, and enjoy the gift of humanity. There's a fine line, on what defines a man, and what defines a monster.

At one time, I envisioned my ghoul-self a monster. A freak, undeserving of a woman as rare and loyal as Dez was to me. I see now, what I've slowly been becoming, is more of a monster than any ghoul. One who hurts the ones he loves, and acts unkindly to them. Granted Dez and I have had our fair share of physical altercations but…but what I was going to do. What I was going to attempt to prove to her…I cringe and feel sick at. I'm no better than Butch, and I don't deserve to even think of her name right now. Until I can figure out, if me wanting to enjoy this human form, or if I want to give it all away for her, I can't see her. I can't, and I hope if we ever meet again, she can forgive me. I won't expect it, nor do I deserve it, but I hope she does. If I can control this person I'm becoming, and remember the person I was, I'll fall to my knees, and beg her to help me. To forgive me. Then, and only then, will I spend the rest of my existence trying to make it up to her. I can't face her now, though. I can't. And I feel nothing but shame and regret.


	37. Back on Solid Ground

The next morning, Boone wakes me. I want to wait for Charon, holding on to the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd arrive here. I know better, though. I know if he was in fact following me, he would have been here by now. So instead of making excuses to stay, I listen to Boone. Of course he finds it confusing when he wakes me and I'm in the armor, but he says nothing. Neither one of us, are in the mood for talking or explaining.

Shoving the leather armor into the pack, I hand it over to Boone. Wordlessly, he takes it, and I put the gun on my back. Charon's gun, that is. I can tell Boone senses a dark cloud over me, but he's sensible and professional enough not to ask. I'm wry of his NCR beret, by the way. I know he says he's an ex NCR, but I don't trust organized structures of authority anymore. For good reason, too.

"I woke early to find out information."

Boone says quietly as I leave the room and walk with him through the corridors of Rivet City.

"What information, exactly?"

This just makes me more suspicious of him. I decide to keep it to myself, that I'll kill him before he can kill me.

"Protector McGraw of the Outcasts has taken control over the Brotherhood. The Outcasts have merged with them, no longer dawning the 'Outcast' name."

"How? The Outcasts hate the Brotherhood."

We climb the stairwell that will take us to the bridge. Out words are soft, with the crowds of people walking with us. The last thing I think either one of us wants, is to be caught with the other. Not sure what kind of bounty Boone has, if he has one, but I don't want to find out, either.

"Not the Brotherhood, just the faction of the East Coast."

"Right. Right."

"But the NCR controls New Vegas, along with the said gangs and Legion. Brotherhood over there has simply become a futile thing."

"When I was there, NCR was the futile thing."

"Times change."

This is light. McGraw was Casdin's understudy, before Charon killed the shit out of Casdin. I suppose since then, it's been him leading and charging the Outcasts, erm, Brotherhood. But why? Why if, like Boone says, the NCR has taken over the New Vegas territory, do they want so badly to control here? It just…just doesn't make sense.

Getting over the bridge, I feel a bit safer as Boone and I walk on the outside to talk about these things. I figure I'll go to Megaton first, to figure out where Charon might be. In the end I guess I'll just end up leaving his armor with Gob, but right now I want to speak with Bigsley. Boone is certainly going to help me with that. When we get there, anyways.

"What does McGraw want to accomplish by trying to rebuild the Brotherhood here?"

I ask Boone as we walk, the morning sun rising in the sky. It's nice out at this time of day. Not too hot, not too cold.

"Power? I don't know. Perhaps he knows that the NCR has taken over, and wants to fight for control of what once was America, and the only way to create a faction of working Brotherhood is by doing it here."

"Then another war will start?"

"Eventually, it seems that way."

"Fucking people…"

Boone looks at me, but I look away. If there was some simple and easy solution to all of this, believe me I would take it. Or even some easy way out, I'd take that, too. But no. Aside from being wanted, and the rough idea of the Brotherhood wanting utter control over a world that is perfectly peachy if you ask me, I also have to deal with the moral Charon dilemma and my own girl issues. This shit is exhausting. Maybe it would make everything easier, if I just handed myself over to the Brotherhood.

That thought never really crossed my mind before now. Never really took it seriously. But think about it. If I went into the Jefferson Memorial, and turned myself in, then they'd kill me, right? Worse to worse they'd keep me alive for a few days, but in the end they'd kill me. Then, the world could do whatever it wanted, and Charon could do whatever it is he wants to do. But…isn't that a tidbit selfish? The cowards way out? All I've done until now, would really mean nothing. Can I really let that happen?

"Where are we going?"

Boone asks and I stop short in my tracks. Pulling up my Pip-Boy map, I look at the possible areas of travel. I wanted to go talk to Bigsley. I wanted to go, and ask him if he had any information on anything, when suddenly, I was hit in the head. Usually moments like these are called 'enlightenment'. I my case, I'll call it 'common sense'. Here's the deal. The Brotherhood want me dead and are planning to wage war with NCR, roughly, not sure, my theory. That's great, but they haven't got me yet because they think I'm dead. Since they think I'm dead, and Charon is dead, they're not actively looking for me. So, I have no plausible cause to go and put myself out there at the Jefferson Memorial.

Common sense hit me, because I was about to do something entirely stupid, _and_ lost sight of my own big picture. I've been dealing with Charon's change, and trying to view it from a neutral standpoint. Take a step back and ask 'Would Charon as I knew him want to be a drunk womanizer?' no. No he would not. The Charon _I_ know, is in there. He's saved me from myself, and fuck whatever everyone else in this world thinks. I'm going to make him remember and be that person, selfish or not. If he doesn't like it, well he can leave _after_ I force him back into ghoulification. Or so, my mood at the moment says. I might change my mind. I always do.

"We're going to the Irradiated Metro, then working our way up to Megaton."

"Megaton?"

"A town. I used to live there."

"Is the person we're looking for there?"

"I don't know, but my friend is, and he's got the best advice all around town."

Changing direction I lead a confused Boone up towards the Irradiated Metro.

"After we do this, and if this works out like I want, I hope you don't mind leaving."

I say as I light a cigarette. I seem to be smoking a lot more these days. Blame it on the stress.

"I won't mind. Figure during this time spent together, I can get a better feel of the Capital Wasteland."

"There's not much to do anymore here, but there's enough shit to shoot at if you're looking."

"I've noticed."

Well, alright then Boone. You notice your ass off for all I care. Right now, I'm determined as hell to find Gob, find Charon, and drag his ass into the nearest irradiated puddle. After that…after that if Charon decides to stay with me, we're going to have to find a place to hide and then deal with this Brotherhood issue. I'm confident that if he stays, he'll be beside me, no matter what I decide to do about the Brotherhood. If I could fix it all now, I would, but I can only focus on one thing. Between the fate of the world, and my own selfish love, I'm choosing myself on this one. After all, don't I deserve a break after _everything_ I've done for the people here? Yeah. Thought so.

When we come to the metro, Boone has a look of disgust on his face. Me? I can't care any less now, than I did before. I'm on a mission, and a personal one at that. Boone is here for gun, I'm not paying him, and he can leave at any time.

"Is it safe to walk through that?"

"It is for me."

I reply, hoping to get to an Underground entrance.

"I see you!"

The familiar cry of a Super Mutant catches me off guard. Quickly, I grab the gun from my waist and look for the source. I see the Super Mutant, but not before a bullet grazes my side.

"Shit!"

I yell, distracted by the pain and the blood. It doesn't hit me where it lodges itself in my side, but does graze deep enough to tell me that it's going to bleed and scar. I'm not near the radiation right now, but I know I'll be alright.

"I got him."

Boone says casually. Another round shoots from the Super Mutant's weapon, but it misses altogether. I watch as Boone takes his scoped Hunting Rifle from his back, takes aim, and gives a clear headshot. The Super Mutant's head pops like a Sugar Bomb snack on fire. On my knees, I smirk at it.

"Good shot."

I say, still holding my side. Boone rushes over, not as amazed at his shot as I am.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah…yeah I'll…be fine."

"You're bleeding everywhere."

"Just…"

"Did you bring medical supplies?"

I have to take a deep breath in, as the pain hinders my thought process. The radiation is so close, so I just have to get there.

"Water…bring me…water."

Boone looks at me like I'm insane, so I know I'm on my own. Forcing myself to stand, my legs shake. How deep did this graze me? And what's with bullets hitting me in my stomach? I have enough rips and tears in this armor to spare.

"What are you doing?"

Ignoring Boone, I walk over to the water and let myself fall into it. Instantly, I'm warm all over, and the radiation works its magic. When I let my hands go from my side, I look down to see nothing but a fresh pink scar, and a nice rip in my top. Using my palms I push myself up, and give Boone a smirk.

"Radiation, Boone. It's my medicine."

He's stunned as I stand up, perfectly fine and walk towards him.

"Come on, we're wasting day."

"Wait just a minute."

I don't. I keep walking, so he reluctantly has to walk and talk. I know, it's hard.

"You mean to tell me you can heal by radiation."

"Well, that's what happened, isn't it?"

"Only…only ghouls can do that. Or Mutants. How come you can?"

"Dunno. Long story."

"I find myself slightly intrigued by your stories. I'd like to hear them."

And I find myself smiling. Looking over at Boone, he's cleaning off his glasses with his shirt. Maybe he and I could develop some kind of friendship. Even though I don't trust him, or his stupid NCR beret, I can see the levels of professionalism dwindling away. After all, it wouldn't hurt, to have an ally in this place.

"Why don't you shed some light on yourself instead? After all, you're in my neck of the woods. I think it's only fair based on turf."

Boone snorts something like a laugh. It'll help pass the time, to hear about him, and to hear why he really came to the East Coast. It's not like he put on some good boots and walked this far. You really have to want to get away from something, or someone, to make that kind of trip.

"Fair enough. I'm from a small town in the Mojave Wasteland called Novac. I was a guard for the town there, after I left the NCR."

"And you left Novac I take it?"

"Yes."

His demeanor quickly changes, turning cold and distant. I am the queen of dealing with cold and distant people. He reminds me a lot of Charon, actually.

"Why'd you leave?"

Boone doesn't answer. He keeps his lips pursed tight, and stares on ahead.

"Because people meddled in things, they should have best left alone."

Oh, it's personal. I get it. I don't care enough to know, and I don't really want to bring back mean memories for someone. So instead we continue on, little words spoken here and there, but nothing important. Charon's shotgun is a good reminder of where I need to keep my head. I'm mad at him for what he did, but technically I'm still loyal to him. We didn't, I guess you can say, break up. We're just on different paths right now.

"Since I told you something, you should tell me something."

There's an angry and competitive tone in his voice, with an underling of sarcasm and comedy. Blinking as I walk, I look to my left at Boone.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why did you leave wherever you came from? Or were you born out here?"

Scratching the back of my head, I sigh. Sometimes, I hate talking about myself.

"I was raised in Vault 101, only I was born in the Jefferson Memorial. Long back story. Anyways, when I was nineteen my dad left the vault, and the residents were pissed and chased me out. Ended up being tossed into the Capital Wasteland without knowing my ass from my elbow."

"And you survived? How old are you now?"

"I'll be twenty-six in a few more months. Lots more months. So I'm twenty-five."

"How'd you live without formal training? Usually if someone if from a vault, they're basically insane, or die within seconds."

"Got lucky, I guess. It wasn't easy or anything, but I made fun out of it. I had a good teacher at one point…too."

We enter the underground tunnels. I figure it's a lot faster, and a lot safer. Knowing I'm going to see Charon and fix this makes me all sorts of giddy inside. I kind of want to get there, to Megaton, see if he's there, and do it fast. You know? So then I can enjoy him all to myself. I like, toying with the idea that he'll be mine again soon, even if he may not be. It makes me feel a whole lot better about things.

"A teacher? You mean someone took the time to show you things?"

Boone is a bit taken aback as he asks that. Using my light on my Pip-Boy, I smirk as everything is greenish and white. Sometimes, small things, make me happy.

"Well…yeah you could say that. He didn't really _teach_ me much, since by then I knew what I needed to know, but he…he saved my life a couple handfuls of times."

"Impressive. Someone usually wouldn't take the time to do that. Unless things out here are different. Or you were paying them."

"I guess…you can say it was the first one."

Walking side-by-side, I enjoy the sounds. The small creaks, the echoes of our feet. I want to reach Megaton quickly, but at the same time, I want to kind of get to know Boone. It's nice, you know, not having to go at this alone. Even though I should be alone in this mission, I like having company. It's always good, to have someone to talk to. Boone and I won't get that unprofessional, but hearing another person's voice, can make a world of difference.

"You liked this teacher?"

He's basing that off of the tone of voice I used. I give myself a small smile, remembering fond and colorful memories.

"Yeah…I did."

Still smiling, I remember how things were when I first got back here. You know, from New Vegas. Charon and I…man that was some of the best romance _ever_. We were so pent up and angry at one another but _man_…it was good. I can't seem to wipe that stupid smile off of my face, either. I guess because for the moment, I'm feeling hopeful. Hopeful, about getting to Megaton and figuring out Charon's whereabouts. The image and memory of him, holding me tight, protecting me even while sleeping…I can't wait, to feel that way again. Can't wait, to stand by him, love him, and do all those dirty things we used to do. Figure he'll have missed me too. Negative thoughts, stay far, far away.

We've been walking for a few hours, which isn't bad, really. Only, walking is exhausting. I can tell Boone isn't used to being underground for this long. We've had some run-ins with Feral Ghouls, but nothing I couldn't handle. Probably would have been smarter to warn Boone that I was shooting them, rather than letting the blast of my sawed-off tell him. Hey, he learned.

"I didn't know it was so loud down here."

Boone puts a finger in his ear and wiggles it around. I'm used to the underground, and the echoes and amplifications it makes. I can see why he's not, though. In the Mojave Wasteland, there's not much to call underground. No real metro tunnels, anyways.

"Yeah well, we should be getting to where we need to be soon. Come on, keep walking. If you're tired we'll build a fire when we get above and camp for the night."

"For a woman, you're quite determined."

"The women in New Vegas aren't much different. Stop sounding amazed."

"No, they're different from you."

"What do you mean?"

I kick a dead feral out of the way as we continue on walking. Boone called me different, and I like that. I've been called lots of things in my time here, different really not being one of them.

"Can't say. Remind me of myself in a way."

"Manly?"

"Driven. This person…they must mean a lot to you."

I let myself go for a brief moment.

"He hung the moon for me…"

Boone's eyes drill holes into my body, and a part of me regrets letting that go. I don't get emotional very often, and when I do, it should only be around Charon. Man, when I get him back, the things I'm going to say. I need to thank him, for the years and time and injuries he's put into keeping me alive. There's no real way to repay him, but maybe a good blowjob? Now I'm just being comical there.

"So you've made up your mind, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"On that boat, you said you didn't know if it was worth going after. You change your mind?"

"Oh. Well, in a way. I figure…it's not selfish or manipulating, if you're doing it out of love, and for the right reasons."

"You love him now?"

Smiling, I look over my shoulder back at Boone.

"I've always loved him. Even when I hated him, I loved him."

Surprisingly, Boone smiles back at me. Like he's happy to hear about love in the Wastes. Maybe he is. Lots of people don't really have other halves. When they hear stories about those who do, they're usually really softened by it. I feel lucky, you know. Even if in the end, Charon and I have to part ways, I'll still feel lucky. Because you know I had him. He had me, and I had him, and together we created something really nice. At least, if we do part, we'll have the warm memories.

Getting above ground, I look around. We're close to Megaton, I can sense that even in the dark. A full day of walking underground, avoiding the city and the enemies above, saved a lot of time. In reality you can reach Rivet City from Megaton in about two days. If you know how to work the tunnels, and know where to step down there, it's simple. But if your above ground and fighting and hiding and running, it can take three or four. It all depends, really. Still, I'm just that much closer to Charon. That much closer, to kissing him, holding him, and having him back altogether. I promise, this time, I'll work doubly hard at finding us a place to call our own. You know? A nice place, where we can plot, hide, and maybe…maybe spend the rest of our lives together. As long as it's here and I can fulfill my wanderlust, I think the domestic thing…just might…well, work. Part-time, anyways. Having a real home, would make everything better. Something, to return to.

"Let's make a fire."

I say to Boone, cheery even though the night is cold. Looking up as I start to gather sticks and branches from dead trees and bushes, I see some clouds rolling in. Maybe it'll rain? Who knows? I wouldn't mind that, it's not _too_ cold. But I would also like to sleep, and I'm not sure how the tunnels are in the rain. It has been feeling a bit moist down there.

"You didn't bring any food, did you?"

Boone says, knowing the answer to his own question. The fire lights, and I sit back as the flames begin to grow and feed.

"Nope, I didn't."

"You don't seem to travel prepared."

"When you're healed by radiation, and are as thin as I am, medical supplies and food really aren't a priority. Plus, if you're hungry, we can find something to kill and eat it."

"I'll be alright. When do we get to this town?"

"Probably mid-day tomorrow. Hey, give me a smoke."

Boone gives me one of his New Vegas exclusive cigarettes. Lighting it up, I relax on the soft dirt. Usually, the dirt out here is compacted, and sometimes overly soft like sand. There's no real happy medium. Right now though, I think because of the rain, it's at a happy medium. Soft, almost like soil, the dirt will provide a good sleeping space.

"Can I ask a question?"

I've told Boone enough about my life. I want to hear about his.

"Alright."

"Why'd you leave Novac? It seems personal."

He takes a deep breath in. Inhaling on his cigarette, he exhales smoke. I can't see his eyes through the sunglasses he has on, and the glare the fire makes on them. I want him to tell me, out of sheer curiosity.

"I was married once. She was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen, and I loved her. The people, around my small town, didn't like her as much as I did. We were…we were expecting our first child…when she disappeared."

Oh…oh wow…shit didn't mean to get this deep into his life.

"What…what happened?"

I'm almost scared to ask, really.

"It turned out…she was sold to the Legion as a slave. Five hundred caps, for my unborn son."

"Do you know who did it?"

"Eventually I found out. After…after I retuned to Novac."

"You found your wife, right?"

Boone lowers his head. I know the answer, but he tells me anyways.

"I tracked her down. I found her. She was being auctioned off. I watched her through the scope of my gun. I loved her, too much to let her live the life of a slave. I killed her, out of love, and mercy. When I returned to Novac, I found and killed the woman who sold her."

"And that's why you left New Vegas, isn't it?"

Boone nods, an immense sadness around him. That's why…he was so adamant on telling me to chase Charon. I understand now, and feel horrible.

"I'm…I'm sorry I made you tell me."

Sitting up, I put a friendly hand on his leg. He looks at me, and I feel sad for him.

"Telling someone, helps. I came here to find a new purpose. Make a new life. My wife she…she wouldn't have wanted me to stay angry and sad. She…she would want me to be happy…to grow."

I smile reassuringly at him. Taking my hand away, I stare into the fire as I smoke my cigarette. We're silent for the moment, and I hope his wife is at peace.

"This man you're going after, what's his name?"

"Charon. After Pluto's moon."  
"Charon…I see. I hope, then, he knows the value of the woman he left behind."

I shift my gaze to Boone, silently telling him to continue on.

"It's not…common to find someone loyal to you in this world. Loyal enough to chase you, and put their lives at risk. I hope that when we encounter him, he knows this."

"Me too. If he doesn't, though, I'll understand. After all, when you live this life, you never know when you'll die. So it's kind of a casual thing, to get up and go wherever the wind takes you, really."

"Walking across a desert-like land, to reunite with someone you love, is never casual."

"Or easy, for that matter. I think he's worth it, though."

"And you're sure he feels the same? It would be hurtful, to get to him and find otherwise."

Throwing my cigarette into the fire, I lie down on my back. Putting my arms under my head, I stare upwards at the twinkling stars. That's one thing about New Vegas I don't miss. When you're in and out of casinos and the lighted strip, you can't see the stars.

"Charon and I have been together since I left the vault, almost. There's no doubt, that he loves me."

"I hope your right. If things don't work out, I'd like you to know Dez, I'll travel with you."

"Usually I'm a loner, but yeah. Yeah, that'd be alright."

We talk into the night. The professional barrier dropping down completely, Boone and I connect in one of those rare and deep conversations. The ones where you're honest, and talk about emotional things without getting emotional. Almost, casual, but understanding. Talking to a stranger like this, for the both of us, I'm sure brings comfort. There's a knowing sense of trust, that the other won't use this information against one. It's rare, a nice long talk, but it was needed. Two people from two different parts of the world, are so alike. I've never met someone, who was so like me before. I fall asleep that night, feeling easy and comfortable. Comfortable, and free, because someone listened, and never passed judgment.


	38. The Taste of the End

It's the warm sun of the next morning, that acts as my alarm clock. Soft dirt beneath me, rubs against my bare arms, as I slowly begin to wake. I'm laying on my ride side, rolling over in my sleep. Boone fell asleep in his spot a few feet away behind me, to my left. I go to roll over and sit up, but I bump into something. Opening my eyes, I wipe the sleep from them to get a clear look. It's Boone. He fell asleep before me last night, and must have rolled over to my area by mistake. I'm not mad or taken aback by it. Because of our heart-to-heart, I didn't really expect anything less. When you meet such broken people out here, there's a comfort they tend to subconsciously want. He's aware that I'm going after Charon, and more importantly aware of my situation now. I did nothing wrong.

Sitting up, I yawn and stretch. The smoldering remains of last night's fire still gently smoke. Black and gray ash catches in the light morning wind, and it makes me smirk a bit. Megaton isn't far, not by a long-shot, and I can't wait to get there, to hopefully find Charon soon after. It's the wanting to see him so badly, that makes me feel like I'm nineteen again.

"Hey, Boone…"

I shake Boone to wake him. Standing up before he wakes, I make sure to let him think he had stayed over on his side. I don't want to risk him blurring the lines between business and pleasure. If it's one thing I've learned out here, it's that no matter how unemotional and badass you try to be, in the end, you want somebody or something, to comfort you. Boone…after last night, seems like a man who needs a woman's touch, but is far too stubborn to find it. I'm hoping that will change when he gets to Megaton. Hell if I still knew where to find Lily, I'd hook them up. I'm sure they'd be good together. Boone would like her type.

"It's early."

He says as he sits up. I'm busy yawning and stretching and getting my legs to work properly for the long day. You'd think I'd get sore from so much walking, but shit, how else do you expect to get from place to place?

"Come on, Megaton is like, a hop, skip and jump away. I want to get there."

"You think he's going to be there?"

Boone already asked something like that the day before. I don't bother to remind him, but wait until he's standing and ready to go before I answer him.

"If he's not, then Gob is. Gob will have advice on what to do next."

"How do you think Charon is going to react to seeing you?"

Last night, during our heart-to-heart, I told Boone a short history of Dez and Charon. It was the summarized version, but he still knows a little about a lot now. He knows Charon was a ghoul, isn't anymore, was a hired killer, and brainwashed. You know, the fun stuff.

"Hopefully good. I got his gun and his armor, and I'm hoping that'll jog his memory enough."

"You act like he has amnesia."

"In a way, Boone, I think he does. Strange things happen to people, when they change like that. Like, Charon changed, I mean."

"Understandable."

We begin to walk, the anticipation growing and growing. In a way, I think I'm setting myself up for failure and disappointment. There's a good chance Charon won't be in Megaton, and even better chance he won't want to come back to the ghoul side. I mean, if I had spent the last two-hundred years as a rotting corpse, then I'd want to stay human, too. But to be fair and honest, ghouls _really_ don't smell bad. People think they do, and in large numbers sure there's a smell, but really they don't. They smell like you and I do, like they do. Everyone has a scent, and that's what they smell like. Underworld smelt because there was so many of them. Get enough humans in one room and I'm sure it's stinky as hell.

Lighting a cigarette Boone gave me, I hear my stomach growl. It's loud, and obvious. I'm hungry, but I can wait till Megaton to eat. We're not far, and I'll like the food more. Even though by the time we get there I'll probably be too excited to really remember to eat. I'll spend a night in the common house, then head out again though if Charon's not there. A night of drinking at the saloon might do me some good. Gob really should take that place over again, it'd be a great source of income for him and Zack. But, I can see why he wouldn't want to. Nova…and all.

"This town have a restaurant?"

The wind blows and I look around before answering Boone. Call me crazy, but I swear I smelt blood. It has a smell, a very distinct smell, and the wind blowing made me smell it. Someone's dying, dead, or fighting something not too far off. We should move fast, so we don't attract attention. Anything drawing enough blood for a person to smell it, isn't good.

"Two. A saloon and the Brass Lantern. Good food."

"Right."

That's definitely blood I smell. Boone notices my nervousness, and tries to look around. There's nothing to be seen, and he probably didn't smell it, but I did. Something right now, isn't right.

"What's wrong?"

"Blood. I smell blood."

"What?"

I shake my head, deciding it's better to keep something like that to myself. A Deathclaw I think, is the cause. Usually they rip things to shreds, and blood comes out a lot then. If that's the case, then we better hurry to Megaton. There's no Deathclaws in New Vegas, and I don't think Boone here is equipped to dealing with one. Plus, I don't want any distractions right now. All I want to think about, is how sweet tonight will be if I can convince Charon to be mine again. I'll forgive him, for the fight in the tunnels, if he agrees to forsake humanity. I can honestly say, him as a human and the personality that comes with it, isn't something I'll love or can love. If he looked that way, and acted like ghoul-Charon, I would love him to no end. But he didn't, and that's probably why I didn't believe it was him when he told me it was.

As the day grows hotter, minute by minute, Boone and I keep a silent and steady pace with one another. Charon's gun digs mercilessly into my back, and I keep checking to make sure Boone has the leather pack that has his armor in it.

"Charon must be a big guy. I saw his armor on you on the boat, it's big."

"He's a bit bigger than you, height-wise."

"Hm. Strong fighter?"

"Very. Also very protective. I mean, not that I need protection but when you're out of ammo and outnumbered, he's perfect coverage."

I smile, remembering the Jury Street battle between Charon and I and the Talons. What a fight. He scooped me into his arms that night, while he shot his shotgun one-handed. I felt so damn safe, pressed against that wide chest, with one of his strong arms supporting me and holding me close. I hope soon, he'll hold me like that again.

"A man needs to protect his woman here. He'll lose her if he doesn't."

"Yeah. It's easy to lose people out here."

"Charon's always been with you, it seems."

"Aside from the five years I was in New Vegas, he has been. Never been too far behind, never been too close beside me."

I never told Boone, that Charon was there for emotional times, too. Right now I'm sure he thinks that I've mixed up 'love' and 'dependency'. It's okay, though, because even though we had that deep talk, there are things I like to keep for later. If there is a later. Like the tale of Charon being there for me when my dad died. I told him I loved him that night, and Charon replied with a warm 'I know'. It was what I needed to hear. Now, looking back, if Charon had said he loved me in return, I don't think our relationship would be as strong and close as it is now. Small things like that, really do have an effect on the future. A big effect, too.

"Seems like you've seen a lot, Dez. For someone whose been out here a short time, that is."

"Trust me, Boone, I've seen enough. I'm hoping now I can find a home and play the domestic thing part-time."

"Think of where you want to live?"

"Here. This place, the Capital Wasteland, is where I want to stay. I realize that now, after leaving for New Vegas and all. I'm safe here, because I know this place. Finding a shack somewhere and living with Charon, while still having the freedom to travel and come back when I want, is all I'm looking for."

"Charon will go for it?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he will. We had a place up at Tenpenny Tower not too long ago. Didn't last long, though."

"What's Tenpenny Tower?"

"Oh it was this real fancy like, suite hotel back pre-war style. Ghouls live there now, mostly Charon's old friends. We had a room, a penthouse suite."

"What happened?"

"The Outcasts came in and jacked it. None of the ghouls got hurt, thank god, but Charon and I figure now it's easier for us to live on our own, rather than with friends or around people. It's safer for everyone that way."

"You're a trouble magnet, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I really am."

Boone has no idea of the truth and severity of that situation. I wish it wasn't the case, but then again, I'd be quite bored if there wasn't something blowing up in my face every few days or so. I just wish that something wasn't mine and Charon's relationship. Life would be a lot more fun, if I could consistently wake up to him every morning. Like it was when we first met. I want to go back to that time, so bad.

"There's people up ahead."

Looking up from my feet, I notice Boone's right. There are people ahead. Whether or not they're good people is the real question. Squinting my eyes, I smirk. Just two traders.

"It's alright. They're not Raiders."

"What's a 'Raider'?"

"Uh, a bunch of people who run around half-naked on drugs killing things. I think they're neat. I wanted to be one when I first got out here."

"And what happened with that?"

"They chased me away with sledgehammers and knives."

Boone gets a hearty laugh out of that one. When I was nineteen I probably would have gotten mad at him for laughing at my 'dream'. Now, I'm able to realize and laugh at myself back then, and my stupidity. Scratching my collarbone, I feel my fingernail scrape against the small speck of bone showing. It's not a painful feeling, more like an annoying reminder. Looking down, I'm suddenly reminded of a lot of things.

Mostly, though, of Point Lookout. Desmond left behind his mark, but with those marks, comes a memory. The memory, of Charon and I on the boat back to the Capital Wasteland. Roy was sleeping in the cabin, and because of his loud snoring I couldn't sleep. What happened because of that sleep, sort of sealed the deal on how much we meant to one another. Charon took it upon himself, to gently kiss each and every one of the bruises and cuts Desmond made. It's that Charon, that kind and gentle loving Charon, that I aim to find. No one else would even look at me, if they had found me with Desmond like Charon did. But…Charon loved me still. Loved me, and although it was my fault it happened, found no fault in me. Acceptance like that…is hard to come by.

"Ever think about returning to New Vegas?"

Boone asks me, and I look at him. Shrugging, I bite my lip.

"Sometimes, I do. When things get hard here, the thought of running back to the Mojave Wasteland crosses my mind from time to time. Why?"

"Wondering is all. Figure what you're going to do, if in case your plans don't work out?"

"No, no not really. Maybe I'll end up in New Vegas as a hooker in Gomorrah. Their outfits are pretty nifty."

"What outfits? From what I remember, they walk around half-naked."

"Exactly my point."

Boone snickers, lighting a cigarette.

"You got a sick sense of humor, kid."

"My friend Gob calls me that, 'kid'."

"The one we're seein' up in this town?"

"Yeah, him. He's a good friend. Has a kid named Zack. Maybe he'll come to New Vegas. Not the most kid-friendly place but hey, there's no Brotherhood and the NCR aren't ghoul-bigots, are they?"

"Depends on who you talk to. Some are, some aren't."

"Vague, Boone. Very vague."

He shrugs and I kick a small pebble. Megaton, it looms over everything just like it did when my ass got chased from the vault years ago. We're close to it, and my heart beats faster with every step. You know, I talked to Charon about going to New Vegas. He didn't really have an opinion on it, but maybe he'd like to go. We could get a nice room somewhere, or a shack. Gamble, drink, have sex and do chems all day long. Well, Charon won't really drink, or do chems, but I'm pretty sure the sex part he'll do. Maybe not all day. I'll have to compromise. It's gotta be better than risking my life out here, anyways.

This place, though, is my home. I've bee to New Vegas and ended up coming back. Maybe that was in part of not having Charon, and maybe it was just because, I missed my home. I may not have a permanent place of residence here, but the Capital Wasteland is familiar. I remember when I first saw the Washington Monument when I got back from New Vegas. Man, I'd never been happier to see that thing as I was that night. I don't think I could bear to part with it, this place, again.

Coming up to the gates of Megaton, I'm about as giddy as a kid in a candy store. Pushing open the gates, I take the leather pack from Boone and rush inside. He's left behind to close them, as I run like a maniac up to Moria's.

"Gob! Gob!"

I don't think I've been so excited to see anyone in all my life. I'm getting Charon back soon, it's so close I can taste it. Barging into the shop, I give Moria quite the scare. Ignoring her, as she looks at me like a wild woman, I run up the steps to where Gob's room is.

"Hey! Hey Gob!"

He jumps up from sitting on his bed. Zack sleeps like a rock on it, and Gob looks at me. There's a mixed look on his face.

"Keep it down kid. Hey, hey what are you doin' back so soon?"

Throwing my arms around him, I leave no room for questions. I fill myself with his scent, his touch, and bury my head in the warmness of my friend. My best friend. My only friend.

"Gob…"

I sigh, holding him close. I feel his arms wrap around my waist, his fingers trailing the bare skin that peeks through my ripped shirt. I hold him like this for what feels like forever. If I could, I'd make this feeling last forever. But I can't and remembering Charon I know I have to let him go. So I do, but I'm still just so, so happy to see him.

"It's good to see you too, kid."

Smiling wide at him, I hold his hands.

"Gob, is Charon here? Did he come back to Megaton?"

"Yeah…yeah he's here."

Gob doesn't ask why I'm not with him. He doesn't look me in the eye, and I let my hands fall from his. This isn't good, but I can't let it ruin my mood.

"When did he get here?"

"Bout two days ago. Didn't know you two…ah…"

Boone comes up behind me, breathless, and a bit annoyed. Gob jumps back at the sight of him, glaring.

"Who the hell is this guy?"

Gob asks me, and I wave my hand.

"My gun for hire. Look, listen, Gob where's Charon? I have to speak with him."

"Kid, calm down. Alright? Look I'm thinkin' you may not want to see Charon right away. Why don't we go on down to the Brass Lantern and have a few drinks first?"

"…What is it that you're not telling me?"

I have a dangerous tone in my voice. You can't greet me with bad news, when I've just been so filled with excitement and joy. It doesn't work. It doesn't sit well. Can nothing seemingly go my way? Gob sighs, shaking his head. Boone stays quiet behind me, as Gob brings a chair over. Setting the chair next to me, Gob lights a cigarette and hands it to me. He motions to the chair.

"Sit, you're gonna need to."

Silently I obey. Keeping the cigarette between my first and middle finger, I look up at Gob. He still can't look me in the eye.

"Is Charon okay, Gob? Is he hurt? Where is he?"

"Charon's fine, kid. He's doin' fine."

Alright. Alright then what's the big deal? Lost I look at Boone, but he simply shrugs. I think he's a big taken aback on Gob's ghoulness.

"Then what is it? Gob you're freakin' me the fuck out."

"Kid you know who lives in your old house?"

"No. No why does that matter?"

Gob sighs, shaking his head, he starts to pace. He's wondering about how to break the news to me. Whatever the news may be. I can tell by the look on his face, it's not good. Have I been so happy, for no reason then?

"…Kid…I hate to be the one to be tellin' you this…"

"Cut to the point, Gob…please."

"Charon's livin' up at the old place of yours. Lily…she's the one who rented it out."

I drop the cigarette on the floor. Gob rushes to grab it, before the cherry can spark a fire on the area rug. Speechless, in shock, I stare at Gob.  
"…You're kidding me, right?"

Sadly, he shakes his head. Handing the cigarette back to me, Gob kneels down as my heart freezes inside. Sometimes…sometimes you feel so much pain and hurt at once, that you can't feel anything at all.

"Look, kid…I'm real sorry. I…I thought when he came here alone that you two…shit…"

If I smile, and I don't believe in this, then will I wake up? Will I be able to wake from this nightmare that I've been calling reality for so long? Looking around, everything seems to have a hazy feel to it. A trail, almost. I was so happy, so thrilled and excited just…just minutes if not less ago. Now…now this? Charon returning to Lily? He really…he really did it, didn't he? My hand shakes violently, as I bring the cigarette to my lips and inhale. Gob's hands rest on my thighs, the squeezing pressure reminding me that I'm not sleeping. This isn't a dream. This is all, very much, alive and real.

"…I should have told you this sooner…maybe…maybe kid it woulda saved you the heartache…look kid Charon's been unfaithful. I dunno her name, but…maybe if I woulda told you, you wouldn't be feelin' this way…shit I dunno kid."

Unfaithful? When? The only time…the only time I wasn't with him was in The Pitt and then…Jackie. Oh, oh no…no…

"…No…"

I comes out a soft whisper, as my eyes fill with hot, sad and angry tears. My entire body begins to shake, as new emotions take over the ones I was so enjoying.

"Dez? Are you alright?"

I look up at Boone, wishing I still had my long hair to hide my face.

"Stay."

I say as I stand. Dropping the cigarette once more, I grab the leather pack and push past Boone. Anger, hurt, they're the things that fuel me right now. Betrayal, at it's finest. Charon would never do this to me. How could he? How…how could he do that with _her_ and then come back to me? Is this even him, the same person? There's no fixing this. I can't see, Charon and I working through this. Not if he's human anyways. Charon the ghoul, never would have done this to me. But…but that was because no one wanted him then. If…if the opportunity was there when he was a ghoul, would he? How…how well do I know him, if all these doubts are present?

Running down the steel streets, I nearly fall as I hit the dirt. Shakily, I keep my balance as I jump over the pipe and make my way towards my old house. In there? How could he fuck Lily in there? With all the memories that we shared in that house…how? That one word, seems to be the main question these days.

"Open up! Open the fucking door!"

I scream like a madwoman, relentlessly pounding my fist on the thin aluminum door that was once my own. It vibrates and shakes, echoing throughout the house.

"Who is it?"

I female's voice calls, more alarmed than curious.

"Open this fucking door _right now_!"

I give it a forceful kick before it opens. Standing before me is Lily, in all her unholy beauty and blonde hair. My face is wet from sweat and tears.

"Where is he!"

I scream, not a question. He's in there, I can feel it.

"Who? Who the hell are you?"

Pushing past her, I force my way into my old house. It's all disgustingly decorated and the shrill cries of a child rise up from the floor above me.

"Charon! Charon you get your fucking ass down here this instant!"

Kicking over a small table in anger, I feel lost. Lost in my rage, lost in my despair, lost in everything. My mind makes a soft popping sound. Finally, I've lost it.

"What's all the noise about?"

Charon's human voice carries down the stairs, followed by his big heavy footsteps. Knowing I'm going to see him in a matter of seconds sends my stomach into flip flops. That coupled with my anger, forces me to run outside and empty the contents of my stomach next to the house. It doesn't matter much, there's hardly anything in there but bile.

"Dezbe?"

His voice cuts through me like a million bullets. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my entire body shudders, shakes, and I can't get up. I can't pick myself up off of the ground. All I can do, is look over my shoulder at him. He's dressed in pre-war sleepwear. Pre-war. If I had seen this at any other moment, I would have laughed my ass off. Instead, the sight just breaks my heart. That broad chest that I sought comfort in, so many times before, is clad in red silk. My hand tightly grips the armor, and the black shirt with that armor, that I had become so accustomed to.

As much as I want to say something, nothing comes out. I open my mouth to speak, but words seem so lost. All I want, is for him to come back. I want to close my eyes, and open them again to the sight of him, as he once was. With his powerful arms wrapped around, and his guttural voice giving me promises.

"What are you doing here?"

It's all he can ask me, as he stands in the doorway with his woman behind him. I look so pitiful right now. Forcing myself up, I stand.

"H-h-how could you?"

I stutter, waiting for an answer as I use every ounce of energy to keep myself standing. Was it I was too demanding? Was it I was too cold? Did I cause this, cause him to run to the arms into another woman? Is it because I was never satisfied with the life I had? Why? All my questions, I know, will go unanswered.

"Dez, I think you should leave."

"Fuck you!"

Without thinking, I throw myself at him. Fists flying, I close my eyes as they make contact. The petty rage of a woman scorned. I can't help it, though. Leaving me would be one thing. But cheating, and _then_ leaving me for another woman, without even telling me? Now that's low. That's low, and dirty, and something I bet even the nastiest of Raiders wouldn't do.

"Get _off_!"

Charon hollers, and with a forceful blow to my face, he has me knocked on my ass with my cheek throbbing in pain.

"Dez!"

Boone arrives in time to see the worse of it.

"No!"

I yell, grabbing his leg, preventing him from hurling himself at Charon. Gob comes seconds later, scooping me up and shielding the sight before me of Charon and Lily with his hands. He wraps me in his arms, hushing my cries with words of comfort and a warm embrace.

"Come on…come on, hush now…come with me."

By now, a crowd has gathered. Small, but a crowd. I fall into Gob, and hear someone's heavy footsteps. His weight against me shifts, and I notice Charon was taking steps towards me. Gob outstretches his arm, angry.

"_You_ keep away!"

Gob? Is that angry and powerful voice coming from Gob? _My_ Gob? His arm returns to embrace me again, his voice instantly quiet.

"It'll be alight, hush now, hold on. Come on, come on…"

Scooping me up in one fluid motion, he holds me against him like he would a wounded Zack. Gob forces my head into his chest, not letting me see the sights. I don't want to see, anyways. I don't want to see or touch or smell or feel. All I can do, is cry into Gob's white shirt as he holds me tighter than he ever has before. These arms around me, aren't the arms, that I want to save me. But I can't even move. It hurts, too much, to even think.


	39. Who I Am, Hates Who I've Been

_There's a link that I for some reason, can't paste into this chapter that describes perfectly what I'm trying to portray Charon is going through. _.

* * *

(Charon)

I stand outside of my house in Megaton, completely in shock. Gob glares at me, angrier at me than ever before, as he carries a sobbing Dez away. A man who I've never met before, wearing a military beret associated with the NCR stays behind. He holds a leather bag in his hands, and my shotgun in the other.

"Those are mine."

I say, reaching for them. Before I can get closer, the man throws my gun and the sack at my feet. He's lucky it didn't discharge.

"She came here to deliver these things to you."

"Well, at least now I don't have to pick them up."

"You are a disgusting being. Undeserving, of that girl's love and loyalty."

The man says nothing else as he begins to follow Gob and the pitiful being that is Dezbe. Shrugging, I pick up the leather sack and my gun, turning to go back inside my house. Lily has finally calmed Mackenzie, and the home is as quiet as it was before the whole scene.

"What is _she_ doing back here?"

Placing the objects on the small pre-war sofa, I walk over and wrap my arms around Lily. She smells like lavender and peppermint, freshly cleaned and bathed. Not a speck of dirt on her pale and beautiful face.

"It doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter, remember the last time she came into our lives?"

"Actually, I don't."

I stifle Lily's protests and arguments with kisses and lovemaking. She succumbs to my wants, moaning in pleasure and running her long, pale and smooth hands through my hair. It's a diversion that's most needed, and a stress relief like no other. I try to think about Lily, and nothing more, as the sofa where my things sit becomes our own personal bed. My belongings fall to the floor, a small crash emitting. Lily giggles, but I just kiss her harder.

By the time we finish, she's exhausted and ready for a nap.

"Go on, I'll meet you up there."

She lovingly kisses me, her hands leaving a smooth feel on my chin. I watch her go, as I light a cigarette and stare down at the floor. My old shotgun. I've been wanting to retrieve it from Rivet City, but figured since Dez was going there anyways, she was just going to get them for me. You never realize, how easy it is to forget and move on, until you're in the situation yourself. Dez isn't a bad looking woman, so I suspect she'll have someone new in no time at all. It's not that I never loved her that made leaving her so easy, it's simply the fact that I want to enjoy this humanity for as long as I can, milking it for all it's worth. You can't milk anything, with another person breathing down your neck constantly.

Holding my cigarette in my teeth, I bend down and pick up the leather sack. I'm not sure what's in it, but I have a hunch. Opening it, proves my hunch to be right. My old leather armor. The poor mercenary's wear. What a ragged old thing. I hold it up in front of me, as it's dusty and I don't want to get dust anywhere on me. The thing looks like it's seen hell, and if memory serves me right, it has. I smooth my hands over, it, and pull out the old and faded black shirt that fits beneath the top part of the armor. It's just as dusty, and just as gross. Placing it on the coffee table, I pick up my gun and put it on top of the armor.

Leaning back on the couch, I hold an ashtray in my hand as I look at the pieces of memorabilia. They represent something. Something now dead, and forever gone. A life of murder, of unjust behavior, adventures not worth remembering, and two-hundred years of suffering abuse and revilement from others. I don't want to look back at those years, but a voice inside of me tells me to. Tells me, that the memories I harbor of my old life, are worth remembering.

Standing up, I hear Lily's soft snores trailing down from the thin steps. She's asleep and I figure I have nothing to lose. Slipping off my silk bottoms, I keep my boxers on as I pick up the leather pants. They fit perfectly around my waist, as if they were made just for me. I raise an eyebrow, as my body sends signals of familiarity and enjoyment. I'm not struck with amnesia, I know full well my past and the part Dez played in it. But…this human form has clouded me and caused me to look the other way. To seek more pleasures in life, the ones, that I was never able to seek before.

Pulling the black shirt over my head, I fit my arms through the short sleeves and pull it down to my waist. Another perfect fit. The last part is more difficult, having to strap on the leather straps that keep the metal plate in place. When I finish, I go across the living room to look at myself in the mirror. I'm shocked, at what I see.

The person…the person before me is not the person I'm accustomed to seeing in this armor. As I put the fingerless gloves on, I can't steer away feelings of guilt and anger. Reality, presses down hard, as my one sleeved arm flexes and transforms. Who is this person in the mirror? Surely I know him, for he is myself. He is Charon, the name given to me centuries ago. But I do not know him. I don't have one feel of recognition or sympathy for this person reflecting back at me. Picking the mirror up off of the wall, I hold it close to my face. I've avoided mirrors. I've yet to see my full human self, before now. I understand why.

Smashing it on the floor, I grab the old shotgun off of the table. This person…this person isn't me. It isn't who I have become. The strange man was right. He was right, and I can't seem to peg what it is that's surging inside. Repressed guilt and anguish, perhaps? Panicking, I hurriedly leave the house before Lily can beckon and ask questions.

What have I become? Who was that monster staring back at me in the mirror? Who is this person, that has sinned against and hurt everything he had once loved? Outside in the warm afternoon sun, I stare at my human hands. My face constricts in a look of horror, as it dawns on me. What I've done, sinks in. Dezbe…Dezbe no…no I couldn't have…I didn't…it wasn't me. It wasn't me. Not me, who took Jackie. Not me, who left and bedded and wooed Lily. No, no it can't be me. Can't be me, who stood inside the house that I once shared with Dez, and committed a sin worse than death. No…no I can't…I would never…never do such a thing. But I did. I did, and I showed no feelings of remorse.

It makes me sick. Violently sick, to remember the scene that just unfolded a few short hours ago. That moment, is the exact moment I wish I could take back. Who I am…who I was, hates what I've become, who I've been. Looking up, as I hold back feelings of nausea, I see the sun shadowing down at the city of Megaton. Where is she? No, there's no way I can face her. No way, that I can try and explain what I've done. I've crossed that line, and I can't think of any way, to apologize for the person I became.

I know it'll happen again. I know, that unless I force myself to change, the unfaithfulness, the womanizing, it'll continue on. Getting up from my knees, standing, I feel like I'm going to blow up. I haven't spoken to anyone about this, but I have to. I can't, let this happen again. Because then…then I'll only be pushing her away for good. I have to get away from here. This line, I never should have crossed it. I've only ever been who Dezbe helped me to become, and I can't…I can't continue on this way. I can't become this way again. I can't.

Forcing myself to move and deal with the powerful feelings of guilt and despair weighing me down, I head over to where Gob lives. I know, he doesn't want to see me. I know, Dez will forever hate me. But I have to try. Try and prove my apology is for real, and prove that I'm not that person. How could I have ever forgotten? Ever for one second thought, that I was any different than who I was before? This new skin, this human form, I hardly even know this person. This isn't the person who was brutally trained, who put himself through hell and back to save the only woman he ever loved. This person, is nothing to me. I don't want to be who I am, anymore. I want to be, forever, who I was.

Moria's is locked, but I knock on it as if I'm a simple trader. I know if they sense it's me, that door won't open. I knock again, when I hear nothing behind it. Did they leave? Did Gob pack up Zack and Dez and leave Megaton with that strange man? If they did, I wouldn't blame them. I don't deserve to speak to them, the people I once called my friends. After what I've done, it'll be a miracle if Gob speaks to me.

The door opens, and I stand before the strange man. I must look like a fool, a fucking fool. A human looking as I do, in a mercenary's clothes. Like a sheep in wolf's skin. It doesn't fit me, and only proves that I'm not befitting of this title. Befitting, of standing beside Dez.

"I need to speak with Gob."

Through my emotions and my dealings, I can still sound strong. Because I am. I am still, somewhere inside, the well-trained mercenary I once was.

"Neither of them wish to speak with you."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Boone."

"Yeah well fuck off and let me talk to Gob."

"He's tending to more important matters."

No. No this fucking guy isn't standing in my way. Angry, and channeling all my training, I push past him, grunting.

"Get the _fuck_ out of my way!"

Boone falls into a shelf, knocking over all of Moria's supplies. Well, perhaps not all but a good few. It feels _good_. Good to fight, good to feel the power that I once had, returning. Although my actions have disgusted myself and those around me, it's a pleasant reminder that who I was, who I want to be, is still somewhere inside of me.

"Charon?"

Gob's voice calls down from the top of the steps. Angrily, he comes down them as Boone picks himself up from the mess.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with you."

Gob folds his arms over his chest. Right now, a rare moment, Gob has the power. He stands between me and Dez. I know that if I force myself up those steps, Dez won't want to ever speak to me again. Gob knows this, too. He also knows, he's a key player in helping me earn my right to return back to Dez's side. I have to listen to him. I have to do what I never thought I'd do before. Ask Gob for help. The thought of that, makes even the old me, shudder.

"She doesn't want to see you, Charon. She doesn't want to see you again, ever."

"I know, Gob."

I can tell he's shocked because the lighter he was using on his cigarette jumps in his hand. Boone says something muttered to Gob, and retreats up the stairs.

"Hey, hey is he going to see Dez?"

The thought of her with _that_ man, with any other man besides me, is an anger that I can't control. Gob puts a hand on my leathered chest to stop me from chasing after him.

"Yes, he is. And it's none of your concern."

"Who is he? Who does he think he is?"

"Dez isn't with you anymore, Charon, and fuck I'm not blaming her."

"Gob…I need…to speak…with you…"

He doesn't understand. It's hard, to have a grip on my old self, while in this new body. Feelings of jealousy fuel new feelings of 'well, I can do better anyways'. I can't lose myself again, not here, and especially not now. Somehow, I think Gob senses I'm entirely serious, and sighs.

"Let's at least step outside. Last thing I need is Zack wakin' up cuz Dez is screamin' her goddamned head off at you."

Nodding, I allow him to lead the way. I take one last look up the steps. I can't see into the room where Dez is, nor can I see what Boone is up to up there. He better not, fucking lay a hand, or even think of, going near her. I will rip him from limb to limb. Closing the door to the shop behind me, I watch as Gob turns around and blows an angry cloud of smoke at my face. He offers me a cigarette, a silent peace offering, for now.

"What do you want?"

His tone is anything but friendly. I deserve it. I deserve all the abuse from them.

"…Your help."

He nearly chokes on his cigarette smoke as I finish the sentence. It's embarrassing enough, without him having to act this way. But I endure it, because it's the only way I can think of to at least…at least have a chance…with her again.

"What the fuck you need my help for? Seem to be doin' good on your own."

A rare moment of volatile emotions, coupled with the stress, and topping it all off with vulnerability, I fall on the ground in front of the shop and cradle my head between my knees. Almost like a ball, I curl myself up, tugging at my hair as my cigarette hangs loosely from my fingertips.

"_Look at me_!"

I say, jumping up and grabbing Gob. It scares him, and I realize for a minute I've lost myself again. I let him go, and decide to try and explain this the best way I can.

"…I have no money. I was…I was nothing more, than a gun for hire. At the mercy of an old paper contract, I had nothing to offer anyone besides my skills. I never felt the touch of a woman, or the curves of a female's body against mine. Never…felt the emotions or desires, that everyone around me seemed to have. For over two-hundred years, I was under the control of my contract, Gob. Before then, the control of employers, of teachers and trainers. I was nothing more than a disposable being with no worth or value."

"…And then you met Dez."

I nod, walking over to the banister and gripping it between my hands.

"Exactly. I met her. I met her and my life…became meaningful. Had value. To someone I mattered, to someone I was a human being, and not just something to decorate their base with. When you live over two-hundred years though, with desires inside and you can't think of ways to fulfill them, you lose a bit of yourself, Gob. When the choice…the choice to stay a ghoul or to undergo the horrific procedure of returning human came to me, I picked it. Picked it because…I wanted to live the life that was robbed of me."

"You're going a great fuckin' job of it too."

"It's not what I wanted."

I'm too shameful to go on. Gob comes beside me, staring at me.

"You know what you have to do then, if you want her to even speak to you."

"…Is it wrong that I have doubts about it?"

Gob shrugs, sighing.

"I ain't gonna pretend to understand a damned thing about you, Charon. I got no clue why you're actin' this fuckin' insane and insensitive towards Dez, but I can tell you this. No matter how fucked you think your head is becomin', you came here. You came here an' wanted to speak to her. You came here feelin' this way, because of what you did to her. Now you can't go on tellin' me, that you don't know if you want her back or not."

"I wish I could be who I was, and look this way."

"Why?"

Stupidly, I stare at Gob. Why? …I don't know.

"I guess I figured she deserved it."

"She deserves _you_. That fucker Boone ain't gonna handle her when she goes off the deep end. Shit he might even kill her if she asks him to. You're the only fuckin' person I know, capable of dealin' with her an' lovin' her at the same time. Which if you ask me, fuckin' blows because of what just went down."

"Gob, if I had any control over that or over myself in the past two days, believe me I wouldn't have allowed that to happen."

"Wish I could believe you. I gotta head back inside. You do what you gotta do. Figure Dez will hang round here till tomorrow, Boone was sayin' somethin' about draggin' her up to New Vegas. Hell might do the kid some good. Ain't nothin' here worth stayin' for anymore."

He goes inside without another word. In his own subtly way, Gob told me what it was I needed to hear. Letting Dezbe go off to New Vegas, without any intent to return, isn't in my agenda. Feelings of jealously, and of anger, override my feelings of selfish indulgence. Right now, I know Dezbe will go with this Boone person. I know very well, unless I change who I've been, she will never even think of me again. Never have I hurt her so bad, and never, have I ever regretted anything in my entire life.

Walking away from Moria's, I begin to think of the things I'll lose. Nothing that comes to my mind, is really as important as Dezbe. A time ago, I believed there was. Believed that feeding my desires to be a normal human was all that truly mattered. It is not. I was caught up, in my newfound physical appearance, and didn't know the proper way to handle it. Never have I been presented with such an opportunity, and so I went crazy with it. I may, because of that, have lost all that I once held close to me. Staring down at my hands, I wish nothing more, than to go back and deny the offer that was given to me at Rivet City.

I don't deserve to be forgiven, and a part of me doesn't expect forgiveness. But, even though I am more than likely going to be shunned and berated, I must still do this. Must still try, and show Dez that I'm truly sorry. That never again, will I leave her side, or falter in any way. My dreams at night, haunt me. If they are not of my past and the burning fires that plagued this land in 2277, than they are of Dez. Of Dez, as she cries and pleads with me to stay. And as I, coldly, turn away from her. I'm deaf to her cries in my dreams, deaf to all around me. Sometimes, my memories and those dreams of her merge. I see her against the burning fires, black from soot and ash, and it's the one time I want to save her. The one time, I want to rescue her knowing that I still love her. Yet I can't, because my contract doesn't allow me to. I watch her die in those dreams. The cries of pain that she lets out, wake me.

If she never wishes to look at me again, so be it. I deserve nothing less. While she…as much as I _hate_ to say this, deserves perhaps that man she was with. Maybe, he can take care of her. Maybe, he can show her a better life, than a mercenary like me can. Gob is right, though. Dez is difficult, and broken. She's a contradiction and hard to stand. It takes special people, a special patience, to put up with her mood swings and view of life. I don't feel as if, Boone is the type of person to deal with that. He may crack, may falter at one of her many suicidal binges, and offer to do it for her. I can't let that happen. I can't stand idly by, and watch as she dies. I've caused her enough pain as it is. Enough suffering, and enough hate.

Standing at the edge of the puddle that rests in the center of Megaton, I look around me. People stare as they walk by, perhaps wondering what it is I'm doing. I don't care anymore. Looking down at the reflection of myself in the murky water, I've never felt so disgusted before in my entire life. As I step in, and sit down, my back resting against the bomb that Dez herself deactivated, I allow my memories to block out the unpleasant burning sensation that the radiation causes.

Not too long ago, Dezbe and I laid naked in the desert together. Her malnourished and beaten body clung to mine, as pleasure and peace mixed across her face. On that night, that night she told me she loved me for the ghoul I was. I should have listened to her words. No truer, were ever really spoken. Although it's true, you must make mistakes before you learn, I wish in some instances that held false water. I wish I had learned this, before I chose it. Knew somehow, I would lose and chase away all I loved. That I would act rude, womanize, and feel entitled to all that I was not deserving of. It's a humbling lesson. It only made me see, how much she means to me, and how of little importance I am to the world. A simple mercenary is all I ever was, and all I'll ever be. I have good skills, and am an expert killer, but what does that qualify me for? It qualifies me to be dangerous, for me to unflinchingly protect those I wish to protect, but other than that…I couldn't hold a caravan job. I'd be the one, to protect that caravan. It may seem, like an honest days work now, but I wonder if it is. Is killing without purpose, truly something to be proud of?

There's millions of invisible bloodstains on my hands. For a moment I lift them out of the water to look and see if I can see them. I can, because I never forget a kill.

"What are you doing?"

Someone asks me as they walk past. I only look up at them, and they see what they want. Some perhaps see a sad and broken man, while others see a downtrodden mercenary. Only I see the truth, when I look at myself in the water. I see someone I do not know. Someone evil, and cruel. Someone who didn't know the blessings bestowed upon them until it was too late. If I could go back, I'd change these past weeks. Change them, and return to Dez in The Pitt and no one more than myself. Myself, who she loved so deeply.

The radiation burns. It burned before, and it burns now. I suppose you simply forget these things, when you've been immune for so long. It's not a painful burn. Perhaps to children or others it is, but to me it's simply something that has to be done. What it feels like, that I can best describe, is how you feel _after_ you've burnt your hand. Not second or third degree, but first. Like touching a hot lighter to your skin. After you jerk away in pain, there's still a strange feeling leftover. That's how it feels to sit in this radiation. It's a small step, if you ask me, on the long road to earning back what I want. I know Dez won't forgive me, I know not right away, and if she does it's going to take time, and work. But I'll do it, I swear and I promise. I won't give up, either.

Glancing up, I see someone watching me. Two people, actually. Gob and the man, Boone. Gob I can tell, has a smug sense of satisfaction about him. He knows I'm doing what needs to be done, for the betterment of both me and Dez. But Boone, I can't tell what he's thinking. Maybe because he's too far away, or maybe, perhaps because I don't care to. I don't know how Dezbe found him, but I know one thing. She didn't sleep with him. If anything, she's put him through hell on her trip here. My only guess is she found him somewhere in Rivet City, and got him to come along with her. I can completely understand, too, why he'd want to go with her. Why anyone, would want to go with her. Leaning my head back against the bomb, I close my eyes and try to relax. Dezbe is a strange and powerful force. Something…something near indescribable.


	40. All I Ever Wanted

It's really dark, by the time I wake up. Gob, Zack and Boone, all sleep around me. All of them, tired and exhausted, from the day. There's a thick layer of sleep on my eyes, from the tears I let out in my sleep. Softly, quietly, I sit up and look around. I've never felt this sad. Not even when I thought Charon to be dead. Thinking back, it was easier to deal with him being dead, than it is to deal with him leaving me and being unfaithful. This is a pain, far worse, than any death or torture. Because it's personal, and emotional. No longer, do I feel like I belong. Do I feel like I have a reason, to stay here. In the Capital Wasteland, or even in the world.

There will never be, another soft touch. Another gruff reassurance, heard from the comfort and safety of Charon's strong arms and chest. It's a pain, and it's coming from somewhere deep down inside. I feel lost, alone, and a void presents itself to me. A void I don't think, I can ever fill. I guess, now, I'm just tired of being here. Of living, and dealing, with the bad that's worse than the good. I'm tired, of being afraid, of being alone, of being lost and…everything else.

Quietly, I remove myself from the bed, and tip-toe to the door. I don't want to wake anyone. I don't want anyone to know I'm gone. There's no more tears for me to cry. There's nothing wet left in me, anymore. Boone promised we could run away to New Vegas. He said he was so sorry, for what I had to see. Said he'd take me to his land, and we could make a safe home. He said, that he'd like to have my company for a while longer. His words brought me no comfort. They brought me no peace. Only a painful reminder, of what I wanted to do so badly with Charon. What now, I'll never get to do.

A sick part of me, thinks I should be happy for him. Happy for Charon, as I walk down the steps barefoot and quiet. He's never lived his life before, and by god he deserves to. A part of me, the part that loves him to no end, says to be happy. Because now, for the first time in his life, he's finally free. Free, like the animals that live out here. Free, like the birds in the Mojave Wasteland. Freedom, I suppose, comes with a price. That price, was losing me. But he's free now, and happy. With his pretty lady, his pretty little house, and his pretty face. Happy, is something even rarer than love. I suppose, you can't have both.

Slipping out of the shop's door, I close it silently behind me. Megaton is pitch black, with only the moon's silvery strips lighting it. I pause for a moment, to overlook Megaton like this. To watch it lit up, by the moon's cold light. It was so beautiful to me, a lifetime ago. To the eyes of a naïve nineteen-year-old girl, this place, was so beautiful with its stringing lights, and beautiful hidden features. Now, as I look down at it, I can see it's still just as beautiful. But I also know, the ugliness that hides behind such beauty.

Charon…I look at the old house, as I softly walk down the steel street. I'm happy for him, in a sick, twisted way. Because I love him, so much, I'm willing to let him go. Let him go, because he deserves so much more than what I can offer. I can't be angry anymore. Can't feel angry at him, for simply doing what anyone would have done. I've put him through enough, haven't I? After all of my antics, all of the events and so-called adventures we've been on, after all the times he's had to come to my dramatic rescue…I owe him this. Memories of the past swim in my eyes, as I let my feet touch the hard dirt. I don't think, I've ever felt so calm and gentle before, as I do now.

A warm feeling, lights inside. Remembering warm memories, helps move me along. I don't remember words, but I remember it as a montage almost. Charon and I meeting, the angry words we exchanged that night. He saved me from the pile of rubble, and I kissed him in Rivet City. Remember, how he held me when I was so sick from the bullet wound. I'll miss it all. Miss, how he tasted against my lips during that kiss that nearly killed him. That kiss, that gave me the chance to escape. Times spent whispering in the dark to one another, times spent by the light of a dying fire, with only the stars hanging overhead. He's lift me into the air, kiss me, laugh with me as we played rough outside. Battling wits, battling strength…we've had quite the story together, haven't we? Charon, and I. I can't wipe the sad smile from my face, as I tread lightly on the hard dirt towards the gate. Looking at my Pip-Boy, I pull up an old picture of him. An old picture, I never told anyone I had.

I uploaded it before I went to New Vegas. After conning Winthrop to get a camera to work for me. Transferring it to my Pip-Boy was easy, taking the picture, wasn't. It's just a picture of Charon, smiling stupidly with his gun on his back, looking down at me as I smile up at him, just as stupid. I decide to keep it on the screen, as I run my fingers over the dark and light green lighting. I'll always love him, so much. So very, very much.

Pushing lightly, the gates to Megaton open just enough for me to slide through. Before I let it vanish completely, I look back at my old home. Inside, I'm sure, Charon and Lily lie in a over's tangle.

"Take good care of him…"

I whisper to the wind as the gate forces itself closed. I'm going to miss him, more than I've ever missed anything before, but I know this is right. Know, that it's for the best. This path, I have to go alone. Take baby steps, easing myself, into what lies ahead. I hope, so much, that Lily takes care of him. That she loves him, more than I ever could. That she makes an honest man of him, that she does all the things I could never do. Holds him tightly, whispers sweet nothings in his ear, and tells him each and every day, he's special. All I have to keep me warm, are the memories of us, of Charon and I. They're doing alright, too. Against the cold breeze the night gives, the warmth of the love Charon and I shared, keeps me comfortable. It's time for me to go now, though. Time for me to walk this world, just as I was meant to.

The Lone Wanderer. Nothing more, nothing less. With no one beside me, and nothing holding me back. It's personal. It's painful. But it has to be done. I can't express, how hard it is, to walk away from it all. To walk away, from the love, from the place I've come to love and come to hate all at once. I've done my fair share here. I've taken my beatings, and did what I suppose I was meant to do. My mother, my father, I hope so much they're proud of me. Of my actions, and my choices. I dreamt, I was gone, and everyone was scared. But…at the same time, no one cared. They were only scared, of what I was capable of doing in their absence.

When I woke with this feeling, I knew what it was. This feeling of what I'll leave behind, when I'm done. Will I leave memories with people, that they'll be happy to rejoin? Happy, to remember? I don't know. I want…I want everyone to know, that I love them. I hope, they can forget all my wrongdoings, and remember me for all the good I've done. Remember the laughter I brought them, and when they're lonely, I want them to think of me. Because I'll be there.

Ahead of me, as I walk further and further from Megaton, are the cries of lost Deathclaws. I hope no one resents me for this. Hope, that when they feel empty, they'll be the memories of us. I can't pretend anymore, that someone will come and save me from myself. I want to leave behind reasons to be missed, and I did. I just hope, it's those reasons they remember, and nothing of my wrongs. Nothing bad, nothing vile. I hope they can forget all the hurt, forget all the pain, and smile at my memory. Smile, because, it's all I've ever wanted from those around me.

As I slowly come closer to the Deathclaws, I look down at my Pip-Boy, at the picture of Charon and I in Underworld that took a bribe of seventy caps to Winthrop to secretly take. Looking back ahead, I see the two Deathclaws staring at me. They're a hundred or so yards away, but they see me, and I stop. I stop all movements, and sit down. There's no longer, any pride inside. No longer, any feelings of anger or rage. One of the Deathclaws makes a battle-cry in my direction, and I play beautiful notes on the piano. I've done my trials, worked through my tribulations. Their pacing steps grow louder, and I look up towards the stars. My soul inside, it cries. I never knew, that I had one before now. Never knew, a person like me could ever feel the weight of their own soul, reaching and crying out to whatever heaven is above.

I ache inside, as I know my time is short. Closing my eyes, I remember this beautiful memory. One of my most favorite. I remember, Charon and I in the abandoned house, so many years ago. Our lips, touching, kissing, as we feel things neither one of us had ever felt before. It was a beautiful night. A beautiful, longing night, that I hope he remembers, when he's sad or lost. Remembers, if he ever thinks, no one loved him. Because I did. I loved him, I do love him, more than I can say I've ever loved anyone in the past. My only regret, is that I never showed him. Never told him completely, how much he meant to me. I was too brazen and harsh. Too selfish and clouded, by my own embarrassment.

A painful, forceful blow from one of the Deathclaws lifts me from my seat on the ground. I feel the painful burning, as my skin rips from itself. Feel the cloth that is my armor, tearing from my skin, and feel the blood replacing it. I feel so free, as I feel myself flying in the air. Driven by the reptile's powerful claws, my body propels into the air. I don't have a care in the world, no care, none, as I soar through the air, the cool night wind acting as the best pillow. I feel no pain, not one bit.

Hitting the ground, my bones are limp, one a few I think, actually break. It doesn't matter, my eyes are still closed. It hurts, to take a breath in. I couldn't move, even if I wanted to. I feel blood seeping from my deep wound, too scared to open my eyes and look at the severity of it. In the near distance, I hear the Deathclaws coming closer, and closer. I know another blow and I'll be done with. It'll be quick, but for now, you'd be surprised what you can live through. Their footsteps, grow faint, as my ears, lose sound. I guess I'm losing more blood, than I ever thought was possible.

Opening my eyes, I see nothing, but the twinkling stars above. My face, is warm with blood, but I don't mind. I don't mind, as a sad smile falls over me. You twinkle, stars, you twinkle, twinkle, twinkle. And they do. They do just for me, and it's so amazing and beautiful. Millions and billions of them, glimmering and shining down all around me. I can't wait to join them up there, and then…then I'll be the brightest star that ever was. I'll be there, bright, shining, and watching the world below, just as they do.

They're closer now, my muffled hearing tells me. Right on top of me, I think. But I don't look. Instead, I close my eyes, and wait. I don't brace myself, I don't want to. I just want to accept, and my only thought is of Charon. If I had one wish, one wish to come true, it'd be that he lives happily ever after. My fairy tale may not have a happy ending, but his can. His…his really, really can. I hope, so much, that it does.

"You like that?"

I hear, somewhere, something. Opening my eyes, just so, I see a leg in front of me. Oh, oh darn. My fingers twitch, trying to tell this person to please leave. To please, let the Deathclaws live, and let me lie here forever and ever. I can't find words, my throat ruined by the powerful claw. They're bigger, than anyone things. My throat, down to my belly button, is ragged and ruined. Nothing pleasurable to look at, I'm sure. I can feel it, the numbing blood, and the numbing pain. I feel nothing, really. I want to tell this person, to please leave. Go away, please. But they can't hear me. They can't hear me, over the sounds of their gun blasting. Over the sounds, of the pained Deathclaws hissing and retreating, wounded. Let me be, please. Stop…stop saving me. Just let me die here. I have no will, want, desire or reason to stay. I've done my bidding, done my time. Please just live, and live happy. Strange, strange person. I close my eyes, because I want to. Because I'm hoping, I lose enough blood in the short time, to never have to open them again.

"Oh…oh my god…oh shit…"

It's okay, person. It's okay, I'm fine. I'll be fine in some time, just leave me here, okay? Just leave me here, so I can go see my mom. Momma…I miss her so much. So…so much.

"I'm so sorry, oh shit…please…please I'm so sorry."

There's nothing to be sorry for. Person, you're forgiven so leave now. Leave, don't make me open my eyes.

"Please…please…"

Oh don't cry. Don't…I suppose, the last thing I could do, before I leave forever, is make you feel alright. So I'll open my eyes, and I'll let you know, with one look, that it'll all be alright. My eyes, they're so heavy, but they open. They open, and view the person crumpled before me. Their face…their hands…my heart…it speeds up, it slows down…but it's okay. It's okay, because…I said it would be.

"Not without me…no…they won't let me in, without you…"

I feel his touch, against my leg. His hand jerks away as he gasps. Hesitating, afraid. It's okay, to be afraid sometimes. Being brave, means being so scared, but doing what's right anyways. Tonight…tonight I was so brave.

"You…you're alive?"

Without question, or anything else, he picks me up. Horribly careful, so I suppose my injures…my injures are bad. But it's okay. Oh, let me tell you it is. Let me tell you it'll all be alright. I wish, I could talk to you. I can see you, though. Can you see me? Can you see me staring up at you, with my nearly closed eyes, against this warm and familiar chest? I can see you, and you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen before. Look at me, please. Oh…oh there you are.

"Please…please don't leave me."

It's so warm where I am. So warm. No more, do I feel the cold night breeze. No more, do I feel the rough dirt beneath me. I'd move, I'd move to show you I'm alright, but I can't seem to find the strength to. Please stop, I'm alright, just place me down. Place me down, and hold my hand. I only want, to fill the spaces between my fingers, with yours.

"Oh god, stay with me…fuck stay with me…"

Hey I'm right here. I'm alright. I told you this, it's alright. Everything, right now, is perfect. It's never been, more perfect than this. Wait, no. No don't take me to Megaton, I don't want to go there. Just…let me be perfect. Let me, for the first time in my life, feel like it'll all be alright. I want to se my momma, I want to see my dad. You don't have to waste anymore time on me, you know. It'll be alright. Go, please, go and live your life the way you should. The way you deserve. You're so beautiful, please don't waste this beauty on me.

"Almost there, please just _hold on_…"

So warm. I love you, you know. I love you, you beautiful, beautiful thing you. Prettier than the stars, warmer than a fire, you're the best thing in the world. I don't deserve you, you know. Hey…what's that? What's that warm, pleasurable feeling that's all around me? Oh…oh my why? Why did you have to do this? Why? I don't deserve to be saved. Why did you save me, beautiful, pretty thing you? I'm closing my eyes now, okay? It'll all be okay. Watch. Watch, I promise.

"No, no don't…you're safe now…you're safe…"

Of course I am. I'm with you. I'm with you, and that's the safest place I can be, remember? Beneath the stars above, I'm safest, when I'm wrapped up beside you. You told me that, reassured my belief, not far too long ago. Remember? Do you remember, those fond, and those beautiful moments? Let me rest my eyes, let me relax here, just for a moment. It'll be alright, just let me.

"Dezbe! Dezbe don't you _do_ this!"

Hush, hush, hush…you're so loud. Please, please don't yell at me. I'm sorry…Slowly…slowly I can feel…my body. My body that was once so numb and so nice, is coming back with a vengeance.

"Oh god…oh thank god…"

My legs are sore beneath me, I can't move anything below my knee. I think, I may have broken something. My arm, my left arm, hurts too. But not as bad as it would, had I not been dumped in this puddle. The water is warm, nice and comfortable, all around me. I open my eyes, and look around. It's all blurry, and I still can't talk. Blinking a lot makes it all come into focus better. To my left, as I turn my head, I see. I can't help it. I smile.

"Thank god…thank god…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

Beside me, kneeling in the puddle, Charon weeps relentlessly. His hands cover his face, as tears make tiny ripples. I shift my weight enough, to roll slightly. My moveable arm, my right one, comes out from under me. Slowly my left regains feeling, and I place my right palm on his thigh. He weeps, his body, shaking violently.

"I'm sorry…"

His sadness, his grief, moves the mountains as he sits here beside me. My shirt is almost non-existent, as the radiation works on healing the gaping wounds. My voice is missing, still, but it's alright. Because I can feel the radiation in my throat, can feel it healing. At the feel of my touch, Charon lifts his shameful head. I've never seen eyes, so bloodshot from crying, never seen something more beautiful in my life before now.

"You're alive…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Silently, since I can't speak, I lift my right hand up. I take his hand, and lace our fingers, the spaces filled perfectly. His hand closes around mine, as he still cries. He doesn't want to look at me, and I want to tell him, it's okay.

"Sh…Sh…Charon…"

My voice, sounds nothing like my own. It's deep, scratchy, as if years of smoking and drinking have taken it's toll. Yet I like it, because it's not just that rough. It's a happy place, between. Like your favorite badass heroine, with the scratchy voice, that can sound so, so sweet. I've never before, felt more gentle, more docile, than I do at this moment. As the feeling in my leg returns, as I'm able to move my limbs, I stare up at Charon who cries with closed eyes.

"L…look…"

It's hard still, to speak, so I know not to get up from the radiation. Charon opens his eyes, and meets mine. I stare at him, letting go of his hand to run my hand over the broken flesh on his face. When…when did this happen? I can tell the places, where he's ripped off the flesh. Where he's tried to speed up ghoulification. He almost looks the same as he did the night we first met, only a bit more clad with flesh. It doesn't matter to me, because right now, he's all I've ever wanted.

"I'm sorry…"

He whispers, still in despair. I give him a sad smile, as I cough out blood and phlegm.

"You're…b…back."

I muster saying, and he nods, his hand closing around mine again, as it rests on his face. He must have been here, in this puddle, and saw me leave. He must have followed me, scared of what I might do. He's still here, beside me, ready to catch me at a moment's notice. It's always been that way, and that's the way I always want it to be.

"Dez…"

He holds me, bringing me on his lap, but keeping me in the radiation. The feel of his leather armor, the feel of his arms wrapping around me, is something I thought I'd never feel again. Something I thought lost forever. He sobs in the nape of my neck, as his hands grip tightly around my waist.

"D…don't…leave…again."

I say, my scratchy voice reverberating off of his chest. I feel him shake his head, feel him take a deep breath in.

"Never…never."

Tomorrow…tomorrow it'll all be okay.


	41. I've Fallen from Grace

I'm so warm, in this bed here. Warm, warm, warm. I don't think, there's a softer place than here right now. My head, surrounded by white fluffy pillows. My body covered up comfortably, with the red silky blanket that is I believe, Gob's. How I got here, is a blur. A raging blur, but one I can carefully remember, if I stop and slow down the paces of time. It was all Charon. All Charon, who fought off the Deathclaws, and gingerly carried me to the pitiful puddle of radiation in Megaton. Charon, who wept and cried against a blue-black sky until I had to beg him to stop, for fear of crying myself. After he did stop, he looked at me. Looked me up and down, while I laid in the puddle, wet and warm. I was scared to move, because I didn't want to risk leaving with internal injuries still unhealed. But, Charon assured me all would be well. That he'd watch me until daybreak if he had to. I trusted him, like I always do.

Walking was near impossible, though. My legs were still pins and needles numb. Like if you sit on your foot the wrong way too long. So gently, gently, Charon scooped me in his arms. He cradled me, made me feel warm, comfortable. He had his arm under my knees, and the other just behind my head. I tucked my hands and arms on my chest, and closed my eyes as I counted the paces he took up to Moria's. Charon's heavy breathing, was my lullabye, and I fell asleep before we got to Moria's.

Now I'm awake, though, and I don't want to open my eyes. I want to sleep a bit longer, but once you're awake, you're awake.

"Dez?"

A scratchy voice calls my name. Not Charon's, no a bit higher pitched. Gob's. Simply Gob's and eagerly, I open my eyes to see him.

"Hey, kid."

He says, stroking my forehead. I smile up at him, while he sits next to me on the edge of the bed. His knuckles are warm, ragged. I like the feel.

"Hi…"

I say, my voice soft and scratchy. The hit to my throat must have really managed to screw up my vocal cords. I like it, but it'll take some getting used to.

"Had a rough night, huh?"

Shyly, embarassed, I nod.

"…How'd you…know?"

It's still a chore to talk. A stimpack or something should fix that right up. For now, though, a rare moment, all I want to do is rest here. This warm, soft bed.

"Charon told us. Came in here, eyes wild as a Yao Guai, and kicked everyone out of the bed."

I smirk as I try to envision that. Sounds like Charon, sounds more like something he'd do, too. Scanning the room behind Gob, I look for Charon. When I don't find him right away, I feel a bit scared. I know I didn't dream last night, because Gob just basically told me so. I know what I saw, too. He was a ghoul, somehow, someway but he was. There's no way I could have…could have been so out of it that I only saw what I wanted to see. Is there? Slowly, so Gob doesn't get alarmed, I sit up to have a better view of the room. It's painful, physically, to have my heart beating so fast. Guess I sustained more injury than I initially thought. More than that small amount of radiation could really heal. Rest is a must, but I have to see Charon.

Eventually, I do, too. Scanning the room very slowly with my eyes, the light is dim. But I see him, at the end of the bed. He's against the far wall, in a chair, sleeping. The image…the image reminds me so much, of the time at Rivet City. His gun rests in his lap, his hands where they should be on the gun, but hanging loosely. The top half of his armor is discarded on the floor, shimmerings of dried blood on it. He has his head resting on his shoulder, soft snores emit from his not-there-nose. I've missed him so, so much. His chest moves up and down, a peaceful sleep. But, then again I wouldn't be the one to wake him. It's been too long, since I've seen that face on him. That face of a peaceful sleeper, but of a killer mercenary as well.

"Stayed here the whole night. Wouldn't leave, even when I said that you'd need the entire bed. Just pulled up a damned chair and watched."

"Watched what?"

I ask Gob, sore still, gruff. I put my back against the headrest of the bed, pillows beneath my lower back. It's only now I realize I'm dressed in loose sleepwear. A boy's sleepwear. I guess because of the wounds I got last night, I needed something to breathe in.

"You, kid. Watched you, after he kicked everyone out to change you. I ain't seen no one sleep as deep as you was, and I ain't seen no one as determined as him. Sat right in that chair there, and had his gun in his lap, like he was waitin' for them Deathclaws to come an' finish you off."

I let a small smile, creep on my face. I watch Charon, as he sleeps, tufts of his hair still clinging to his new-ghoul self. He's got more flesh than I'm use to, but, I'd rather have this than nothing at all. This, than deal with the hurt and pain, that came from his actions.

"So, you fogivin' him?"

I turn my gaze to Gob, and give him a reassuring look. It's amazing, you know, the power a woman's look has over a man.

"I love him."

"Yeah, yeah I know that, kid."

"He was there….w-when I n-n-needed him."

My voice hurts a lot, and I rub my throat with my hand. Unfamiliar skin grazes my fingertips. For a sleeting minute, I think I've turned into a ghoul. Gob laughs at the look of shock on my face as that thought is still fresh in my mind. No, no I'm not a ghoul. It's just healing scar tissue, still sore and angry red from the night before.

"I'm glad you're givin' him another chance. World ain't right without you two pairin' in it. An' I'm glad he went an' sat in that goddamned puddle. He wasn't the same with skin on his face."

Instead of talking, I just shake my head while my hand rests on my throat. Curiously enough, I can't see Boone or Zack anywhere in the room.

"Where's…B-B…oone a-and Zack?"

It's like I have to literally force my mind, to move my muscles, to vibrate my vocal cords, to make myself talk. If this is permanent I'm going to slam my head against a wall.

"They're outside with Moira. Playin' an' grabbin' some brunch. Boone's too wry of Charon to come up here, figured I'd come check on you myself."

I smirk at the thought of Boone and Charon being frienemies. It's sort of, well, funny. I stick my tongue out at Gob to get this point across, so I don't have to vocalize it.

"Yeah I know kid, you're findin' that a world o' fun."

Taking his hand in mine, I squeeze it and look at his eyes. I still smile, and butt my forehead against his chin. I feel like I'm a dog or their pet. It's fine with me, but not forever.

"I know, kid, I know."

And I know he knows. A silent understand between friends. Gob knows, why I've forgiven and taken back Charon in less than a moment's notice. No one else, would be able to understand without explanation. Truth of the matter is, I love him. And when you see the person you love, making such a drastic change when they know their past actions have been wrong, then you make room. You anger and heart step aside, and create passage and space for a second chance. Especially, when that person saves your life, and crumbles in front of you because they're terrified of losing you. No one, no one's ever really been that distraught over me before. Charon loves me, I know he does. It's just, he hit a few holes and had blinders on in a black tunnel for a bit. It happens, I think, to the best of us. He's not off the hook yet, though. Trust me on that one.

"Want me to let you be alone?"

I nod at Gob, baring my teeth playfully at him.

"Alright but look, you gotta rest. There ain't no way you're in any condition to leave an' as soon as Doc Church opens up shop, I'm gonna have him come up here an' take a look at you. When he fixes you up good an' strong, then you can go an' fight the world again. Hear me?"

Pouting playfully, I nod. Pulling blankets up to my waist, I let Gob kiss me on the forehead, and watch as he leaves the room. The door closes softly behind him, so that way Charon doesn't wake up and start shooting up the place. I hear his footsteps going down the steps, and when I finally hear the shop's door close, I instantly turn back to Charon. There's no way in hell, I can get my voice up loud enough to wake him. So I devise another plan. Picking up a spare pillow beside me, I take careful aim, and toss it at him.

Sure enough, it hits him in the face, and his reaction time is nothing short of amazing. He grabs the pillow with one hand, while the familiar 'shashick' of his gun cocking fills my ears. When the pillow falls from his face, he looks around the room ready to kill any unknown intruder. But there is no unknown intruder, all there is, is me smiling and wheezing-laughing at him. When his blue eyes finally fall on me, relief washes over his face.

"Dez…"

His gun falls to the floor. He should be more careful, it could discharge. He trips almost, over his own feet, as he rushes on the bed. Charon hesitates, before letting his fingers gently touch my face. I don't think, he believes its me. Who else would I be, though? I can't really reply to him, so instead I smile, putting my forehead against his. I guess this is what dogs feel like.

"You're okay…you're okay."

His arms wrap around me, a protective shield, a warm hug, something to keep away all the dangers and the reality behind the door to the room. Resting my heavy head on his shoulder, I want nothing more than to believe, that this is all I have to do for the rest of my life. I want to fall into this mess of a man before, me, and forever stay right here. We all have our faults, you know. Don't judge me, for taking him back so easy. If you were in my shoes, if you saw how he was last night, you'd take him back too. You'd love him, just like I do. Maybe…maybe more even. Charon has his set of flaws and setbacks, just like me, and just like Gob. But because of those flaws, is why I love him so much. They teach me things, help me learn, and with that I grow. Sometimes, too, my flaws are much worse.

"I didn't think you'd wake up…"

Charon says, lifting away from me. I pick my head up and shrug.

"I…d…did."

Putting a finger under my chin, Charon makes me lift my head. I feel his fingers running across the sore wounds of last night, the sore scars, really. He growls to himself, raw and animalistic.

"This is all my fault."

Curious, I raise an eyebrow. Charon lets me put my head back down, as he sits slumped over on the edge of the bed. I stare at him, watching.

"If…if I hadn't done…done what I did…then you wouldn't be in this mess. You…fuck…it's all my fault…my fault I almost…lost you."

He hangs his head, holding it in his hands. I reach over and take his hand in mine, rubbing it gently with my thumb. Lifting his eyes, Charon looks at me, as I shake my head. I want so badly, to tell him it's not his fault. That this didn't happen because of what he did. I did this to myself, me. I have control over my own actions. He wasn't there, pulling me out into the Wasteland towards those Deathclaws. I did that all on my own. He's going to blame himself for this, just like he did at Fort Bannister.

"Dez…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for everything. I don't deserve you to forgive me. I understand, if you don't. I'm sorry. I've never regretted anything in my life, as much as I do this."

Giving him a reassuring smile, I shake my head again.

"It…h…hurts."

"I know, okay? Don't try to speak, we'll…we'll get you fixed up and ready to go in no time. I swear, I promise you."

I smile, at the thought of Charon and I once again taking on the Wastes. You know, we can find a place to live if we try. Somewhere to return to, when the feelings of adventure are over. A place really, to call our own. A home, where he and I can live, come and go as we please, and retreat to when the world is just too harsh.

"Let me see."

Charon motions towards my pajama shirt, and I nod. Grabbing the bottom, I lift up the shirt over my head, bare-chested for the world to see. The horror, on Charon's face, puts a good fear in me.

"Oh...oh Dez…"

Through all the wounds, the battles, the fights and gun wounds, Charon's never had this reaction before. Curious and nervous, I look down. I see now, what the fuss is all about. Four lines, four deep, red, angry, vicious lines tear across my stomach and up to my throat. The bone that was showing on my collarbone, is chipped away to reveal a deep gorge. The skin is shriveled, angry-looking and a bit under the line of gross. I run my fingers over my ruined skin, and realize quickly, that it's not skin at all. My eyes grow wide, as I look up at Charon.

"Don't jump to conclusions. Doc Church will be in here as soon as he can. He'll tell us what it is."

"M…muscle, Charon."

Looking down again, I'm sure of it. The Deathclaw hurt me, and hurt me bad. There's no way, that my skin would have been able to heal itself together with the deepness of the cuts. What I see before me, red and angry, is nothing less than the muscle that hides beneath my flesh. I know I'm not turning into a ghoul, since it connects so well with my skin. But I can clearly see, where the lines are that define what's flesh and what isn't. I touch it again, and it doesn't hurt but there's a healing soreness to it that makes me cringe. My breasts, luckily mostly, escaped the wrath of the Deathclaw. On the sides of each, towards the center of my ribcage, are the only lacerations. My neck, though, I think got the worst of it.

I can't see it, but I can feel it. Where the Deathclaw claws caught and tore. Under my skin, the nails of it ripped the flesh off. It explains completely, why it's so difficult to talk, and why it's so hard for me to make sound. Putting my shirt back on, I look at Charon, who's nothing more than a frazzled mess in front of me.

"I'm so sorry…"

He falls in my lap, gripping at my thighs and hiding his face. He's not crying, but instead choking out sobs. Tearless, deep sobs. I wish I could tell him, I'm not mad. In fact, if anything, I'm happy. Just happy, to have him back the way he was, the way I fell in love with him. Putting my hands on his head, I do the best I can.

"Shhh…shhh…"

I say, rubbing his head as he wails into my lap. His sounds, muffled by the blanket, and the fabric of my pants, then again by my own flesh. I crouch over him, like I'm protecting him from something, and rub his back.

"Hush….hush…shhh."

Charon looks up at me, and we both move to make room for the other. I can't help it, but looking at him, I smile. He stares at me, confused and distressed. All I can do is laugh heartily, and throw my arms around him. Showing him, I'm just happy to have him back.

"Dez?"

I hold him tighter, his shoulder in my arms. Without thinking of anything, with only thinking of him, I kiss him as good as I can. He's shocked, when I pull away, still smiling and licking my lips to savior his taste. In moments like this, where it all seems so bleak and so sad, you have nothing to lose by smiling. By looking at the person you love, and just being happy they're there with you. Taking his hands in mine, I close my eyes, and kiss his fingers. This, will only make us stronger, bring us closer. It will be a learning experience, something to laugh about later in our lives.

Opening my eyes, still holding his fingers to my lips, I look at him. He takes his free hand, and brushes it against my face. I want him to smile at me. Please, smile at me.

"When I was young, my trainers taught me that if I allowed any of my employers to be harmed, then I failed. Failure, was associated with pain, from that moment on. Vicious beatings, torturous situations, unbearable pain. Even when I was released, I believed if I let my guard down, and someone was harmed under my watch, I would feel those painful feelings again. I wish, I could tell them now, that the pain of losing someone you know and love, is far greater than any pain they put me through."

I want him to go on. When he tells me, moments of his past, I feel so special. As if I'm the only person in the world with this information. Which, I probably am. Giving him an ear to listen, is like I'm giving him something he's never had before

"They also failed, in informing us that if we do fail, we learn, and without failure, there can be no learning."

I move my head in a bobbing motion towards him, telling him silently to go on. He gives me a sad smile, kissing my forehead.

"Alright, make room."

I like, when those I care about, can understand my broken silent language. Moving over, I overturn the blankets for Charon to crawl under. He does, and I fit myself against his chest, with his arm around me. Protecting me. The safest place, I can be, is right here. I can hear his heartbeat. It goes lub-dub-dub, lub-dub-dub. An extra 'dub'. It's always been that way. Probably, from being a ghoul.

"My last employer, before Carol and before Ahzrukhal, was John. You remember him?"

I nod, the fabric of his shirt rubbing me gently.

"Weeks before we were 'ten minutes to disaster', John took me out on the town. He did not drink, or gamble, or spend his money in lavish ways. All he had with him, that day, was his tobacco pipe. We went walking, a brisk, chilly morning. People wondered, who this man was, to have to have someone of protection near him. But he smiled simply, and walked past.

We ended up, coming to a graveyard. John as far as I knew then, was never married. No children, no family, a simple wealthy retired businessman. When we walked into the graveyard, he put out his tobacco pipe, and smiled at me. I didn't smile back, because it was not something I did. When we had walked deep enough, John stopped at an old, weathered gravestone. He told me that day, it was his wife. His only love, his only prize. I had never seen that man cry before, but on that day, he did. It moved me, more than I realized."

John seems to be important to Charon. Not just because he was his last human employer besides me, but because he treated Charon like an equal. Like a son.

"I miss John, and I wish I knew what had happened to him. My family…I never had one, you understand. But I've always hoped and wondered, that if perhaps John cared for me as he claimed to, if he's been proud or ashamed, at what's become of me."

Suddenly, I get excited. I sit up and quickly wish I didn't, because for a minute I feel really sick and gross. But my excitement gets the better of me, and I point to a pencil and clipboard on the desk across the room. Charon gets up, reluctant, and gets it for me. Once it's in my hand, I can't write fast enough.

_There's a record at Vault 101 in the Overseer's computer. It has the entire history of all the residents. Logs of what happened. Let's get it._

"How do you know this?"

_When I was 16 I hacked into the computer because Amata made me mad so I broke it._

"If you broke it, how do you know it still works."

_I needed it to get out. I never told you, how exactly I made it out of there did I?_

"No, not entirely."

_Well I will when I don't have to write every little fucking thing._

"Alright, Dez."

_It's not your fault, by the way, stupid. And you're not really off the hook yet. Jackie._

Charon looks at me, and I look at him. Again, he's back to moping and I hit him lightly in the leg with the clipboard.

_We'll deal with it, a lot later. Not now. Just happy to have you back now. My hand hurts._

It's been a while since I've written anything. I'm not use to it and I don't feel like doing it, so I let the pencil and paper fall down on the floor. Right now, I want to just cuddle up with him.

But the cuddling doesn't last long, because just as I'm getting comfortable, Boone, Zack, Gob and Doc Church all walk into the room. I know it's Gob's room and all, but really what if I was in the middle of something personal? Like having sex. Then they would have wished they knocked, I bet.

"Alright let's see what we have here."

Doc Church says as he puts his bag on the bed and opens it. Charon gets up, obviously displeased.

"Did you have to bring the entire circus with you?"

Circus?

"Can't leave my kid alone outside Charon. You know that."

Charon doesn't say anything, but grumbles like a growl and folds his arms. He stands directly next to the bed, keeping a close eye on Boone. Who, by the way, I have not spoken to since those promises of New Vegas. I really hope that doesn't bite me in the ass later.

"Alright said you got attacked by a Deathclaw, right?"

I nod at Church, pointing to my neck.

"She can't speak very well right now."

Charon informs him. Church nods, and gets a small light and a stick-looking thing out of his bag.

"Let's look at that first then. Open."

I open my mouth and he peers inside. Wouldn't it be funny if I threw up? I think it would be fucking hilarious.

"Alright…looks like I'm going to have to give you the ghoul dose of Med-X for this procedure. You're immune to radiation, right Dezbe?"

I shudder when he calls me by name. Just another person, who knows I'm not really dead. Great, when will the Brotherhood hear of this? Nodding, I fold my arms and sigh. Church takes out the super duper Med-X and shoots me up with it in my neck. It hurts for a minute, but then it goes pleasantly numb.

"Okay what seems to have happened is scar tissue has somehow altered her vocal cords."

"How do you know this?"

Charon asks, the skeptic of the bunch.

"Well, for one thing I can see it on the back of her throat. But peeling away scar tissue is a fairly easy thing, comes off similar to your skin there. You know, like you were tearing at it the night before. Never would have guessed you'd want to go back to ghoul. Don't even want to know how you went back to human in the first place."

Charon says something that sounds like 'go fuck yourself' but no one really listens hard enough to hear it. Church takes out some tweezer-looking things, and I open my mouth. Reaching in my mouth, I feel pressure on the back of my throat. Church pulls gently, it doesn't hurt, it just feels funny.

"Alright…alright, easy now…"

It grows longer, and I begin to cough.

"Hey now, don't move there or you're gonna make this work."

My eyes start to water as I'm basically holding my breath. Slowly, Church begins to remove his hand and the tweezers. On the end of the tweezers is a long, pale, pinkish white strip of flesh. When it's all the way out of my mouth, I close my jaw and stare at it. It's pretty long.

"Clear your throat and cough out any excess."

I do what he says, and cover my mouth with my hand. What comes out is a strange mixture of blood and skin flakes.

"That's good. You'll be able to talk just fine soon enough. Is there anything else you need me to look at before I administer a few stimpacks?"

Quickly, I shake my head. He doesn't need to know the muscle on my chest is there. Doesn't need to busy himself, with things that will make me have to be naked in front of a room full of people. I'm sure that the muscle is nothing more than a badge of honor. If it doesn't heal over, that's fine. If it does, that's good too.

"Okay then, I'll give you three stimpacks. This is gonna cost some hefty caps, you have the money?"

No, not that I'm aware. Spent most of what I have at Vera's. I can't tell him that though, not because I can't talk but because I don't want to. Charon pipes up, always to my rescue.

"I have it."

"Okay, here you go then."

He bites the tips off of three stimpacks, and administers one after another into the side of my neck.

"Rest for a day or so and you'll be good enough to leave here tomorrow."

I nod in thanks, and Charon shells out the caps needed to pay him. It's a hefty sum, overpriced, if you ask me. I could have done that myself. It would have been a lot easier for me to do it, than it is to pay some quack of a doctor to tell me what I already know. The only thing we've learned from this, really, is that our stay in Megaton is limited. Eventually, soon, someone will report our whereabouts to the Brotherhood. Then, it's off in the great beyond once more.

As soon as Church leaves, it feels like everyone takes a big sigh of relief. Gob sets Zack down, who promptly begins to busy himself by coloring in some pre-war book. Boone leans against the other wall, mimicking Charon almost, while Gob shakes his head.

"Fuckin' waste of caps…"

"I told you that, Gob, but you wouldn't listen to me."

"Yeah well, thought the kid was in danger."

Charon and Gob bicker back and forth, like old times. For a minute I let myself think that it's that time again, and that soon Nova will be coming through the door to see her 'Gobbykins'.

"I got some bad news for you."

Boone is speaking to me, and to me only, but everyone stops what they're doing and looks. I stare at him, as he kicks off of the wall and comes towards me. Charon straightens his back, puffing out his chest and making himself seem larger. I want to tell him there's no need, he's already bigger.

"When I received my belongings that I had sent here from New Vegas from a caravan, I overheard something I think you need to be aware of."

"Well, go on then."

Charon urges Boone to keep talking. If it's this important, then we don't have all day.

"The Brotherhood has found out that Dez was not in fact, killed by a stray bullet, as was told by Bigsley. They're right now stationed at their base, but will be mobilizing teams to go and search for her. The reason for this being that they claim she is a 'high-risk' factor in their orders of operations."

"In other words, they're doin' suttin' they prolly shouldn't be, an' she's the only one insane enough to care about it."

"More or less."

Boone and Gob share looks at one another. I suppose after showing my face at Rivet City, it was only a matter of time before they found everything out. But something scares me, and I reach up and grab Charon's arm.

"…Bigsley…"

My voice is a hoarse whisper, but it's better than nothing.

"What about him?"

"…Help him…we have to."

Charon stares at me, wide-eyed and shocked. But he knows. He knows, that Bigsley tried to help us. Even if it caused more trouble than it was worth, Bigsley still did try. We can't let someone be punished for trying to save our asses. Reluctantly but understanding, Charon nods.

"Do you know what they intend to do with Scribe Bigsley?"

"No, this is all what I heard from the Initiate traveling with the caravan."

"Then maybe this is all hearsay."

"I doubt it. The Brotherhood usually has an action behind their plans. We should move soon and find a safe place to target our next move."

I want to listen to Gob and say it's bullshit, but then again Boone has a point. He was in the NCR, and they went to war with the Brotherhood. So I'm figuring he knows a thing or two that could really, really help us. Charon on the other hand, doesn't see it in the same light.

"What the hell makes you think you're coming with us? I don't know you, for all we both know you could be a spy."

For the first time in his entire life, Charon looks stupid. Stupid, as Boone raises a finger and points to the NCR beret on his head, signifying that he is in fact, _not_ a spy. I don't like this feeling. Charon's been humbled, and I think he's actually upset about it. This isn't going to end well, and won't be very comical, if they both can't lighten up.


	42. Everybody's Free Now

"Here, Moria fixed up your armor for you."

"Thank…you."

I say to Gob, as he hands me my armor. I'm still in the bed, while Charon and Boone go about Megaton and collect things for our long trip. Gob helps me from the bed, so that I can get dressed. The stimpack really did help, I feel a bit stronger. A bit tired, but nothing I can't work through.

"Listen, kid, I know somethin' that might help you out a bit."

Looking at him, I raise an eyebrow as I turn my back to him. Pulling off the pajama shirt, I put on the top to my Pitt Raider armor.

"I know you're gonna be needin' a place to hide out, an' goin' to towns ain't really in your option of safety. There's this rumor I heard years back at Underworld, that there's this shack just North of Everglow National Campground. Not sure if anyone's livin' there but I don't think it would hurt much to look."

Bringing up my Pip-Boy map, I notice there's no such location on it.

"Nothing…on my…map."

"It's not marked, kid."

Alright, alright that's good then. If it's not marked on my map, that means it's also not marked on any other map, if it even exists. I know this because for the short time I was allowed in the Citadel, you know, before they brainwashed me, I saw this big green map hanging on the wall. It matched my Pip-Boy map _exactly_. So, since we're using similar technology, I can only make the rational and smart assumption that what's on mine is on theirs, and vice versa. Meaning, this hopefully existing place, is perfectly safe.

"I'll…make them…head there."

"Maybe you should try an' stay here for a bit longer. You don't seem to be at top condition, kid."

Frowning, I stare at Gob. He shrugs and lights a cigarette.

"Alright suit yourself. Ain't gonna be tryna' stop ya."

Putting on my pants and boots, I stretch out my limbs. We have a long walk ahead of us, three or four days, if we don't take any detours. Sighing, I strap my gun to my waist and look at Gob. I didn't really want to leave this soon.

"I know, kid. I'll miss you too. But you'll come back ain't like I'm never gonna see you again."

We hug, and he walks me out the door. Down in the shop, Moria's busy tinkering with something smelling distinctly like gunpowder. Remind me to never, _ever_ try to talk to her. She's an annoying little twit. So we're able to slip by her, and outside the sun is warm, warm, warm. The sound of footsteps to my left causes me to look. Boone and Charon are carrying packs. Boone's is larger than Charon's, and I'm thinking it's that stuff he mentioned he got from the caravan. Charon on the other hand, is carrying medical supplies and food. Or, that's what I think, anyways.

"Ready?"

Charon asks and I nod. He bends down to whisper something in my ear.

"Does he _really_ have to come with us?"

"It's help."

I whisper back, easier when I'm trying to lower my voice.

"If you insist…"

Charon's displeased, and that's an understatement. We all bid farewell to Gob as he picks up Zack. I give Zack a kiss on the head, and tell Gob to find himself a nice woman, and settle down. Boone and Charon shake his hand, and before I know it we're off into the Wasteland. Leaving Megaton, Gob and Zack, behind. I wish Gob was able to come with us on these trips, but I know having a child out here is one of the worst things in the world. It's for the better, that they both stay in Megaton and keep safe.

"Where are we headed?"

Boone asks, and I mark Everglow National Campground on my map.

"There's…a place Gob…said was unmarked and…safe. Near…Everglow Campground."

"Don't make her speak it hurts her."

Charon comes to my defense, even though I don't need one.

"It's okay."

I force myself to speak, clearing my throat and spitting out blood.

"No it's not 'okay'. You're injured, and severely at that. Dez maybe we should go back and wait."

Suddenly, I remember the promise I made to Charon when we were upstairs in Gob's room. Quickly, I change direction.

"Hey, hey! Where're you going?"

Charon calls, him and Boone catching up to me as I jump down a small hill.

"Vault 101."

Smiling back at Charon, I wink. He has a look of softness on his face, if that's even a real look. Coming up to me as I walk, Charon takes his hand in mine, giving Boone a cautious look.

"Stay close to me."

His actions and words make me think there's been some sort of word exchange between the two that I wasn't around to hear. I look up at Charon, worried. We can't be making new enemies, especially enemies that know things about us. Boone, if he was angered, could very well report to the Brotherhood about anything he wanted to tell them. Squeezing Charon's hand, I get his attention and he looks at me.

"I'll tell you tonight."

He mutters, and I smile. I smile, because the sun is high and bright. Because I'm alive today, when last night I didn't expect to be. Because here I am, with the man I love, wandering the Wasteland once more. For an instance, it feels like I'm nineteen again, with the world at my fingertips.

"I'm going home, Charon."

"I know. Think they'll accept you back into their domain?"

"It might be gone."

It doesn't take very long at all, for us to reach the wooden door that keeps the animals away from the vault entrance. Standing in front of it, I block Charon and Boone from pushing past me. Not that they would, since I'm sure Boone has no idea why the hell we're here and Charon isn't the one to show eagerness.

"What's this place?"

Boone asks, scratching his head under his beret. Charon narrows his eyes at him, a bit hesitant to answer.

"Dez's vault. Where she was raised."

"Shit."

I push open the wooden door, and step inside the hollowed-out tunnel. The gear door before me is still there, sealing off the world from the vault. I guess Amata didn't want to let people come and go as they please, which in my opinion, is a shame. Using the vault as a safe house while leaving and returning for supplies is probably the smartest thing to do. They could have a guard on duty, to make sure no unwanted people get by and if they by chance, do, then there's the lockdown alert. We used to have to do those stupid lockdown drills, it got _so_ old and boring.

"They've more than likely changed the password since the last time, Dez."

Charon comments as I make my way to the control panel. Looking back, I give him a sly smirk.

"You underestimate my computer abilities."

Talking is hard, and it's kind of painful, but I have to make sure I don't let any of this show. Charon will go into a frenzy, because that's just kind of what he does. After last night, too, I think he's being a bit more protective than he was before. It's fine by me, but I'd rather just worry when worry comes.

Hitting the buttons and working with the panel, it's easy to crack the code and open the door. Taking a step back, I fold my arms and smirk and the two surprised men behind me.

"Told you."

The door hisses and steam lets out, as it propels forward and rolls out of the way. You know, I'm not sure what I expected by coming here. Not sure, what it would look like. More than not, I expected it to be destroyed and broken. It's anything but. Five years, six almost, since I last stepped in here, it's changed a lot. The bright lights are back in working order, the steel is spit-shined to perfection, and it feels so clean as we walk in. It's…it's almost as if I never left. A small, tiny sense of longing to be here again, moves in me. Charon puts his hand on my shoulder, as we begin to walk into the clean, pure air, environment of Vault 101.

"Looks like they've cleaned up the place."

I decide to leave the door open behind us. Worse to worse, we're going to have to use this door to run like hell. We're outnumbered here, if I remember right. The vault security wasn't the best, but they've probably got more people now. I'm sure my old classmates, the Tunnel Snakes and whatnot, have had kids. They'd be babies still, but I wouldn't doubt that some of them read a book or two to make sure security is tight. Especially with me on the outside.

"It's eerily quiet in here."

Boone says as our footsteps echo down the halls. I'm just heading to the Overseer's office, probably where Amata stays, to get information.

"It's still early morning, that's why. Vault days are different from regular days."

"Hm. Never knew that."

"Least that's how it was here. Not sure about anywhere else."

Charon stays close to me, as we enter inside the Atrium Administration level. It's easy to navigate here quickly and quietly, since I was raised here and it's near impossible to change the layout. We also got lucky with walking in on the wee morning hours of vault-time. Everyone should still be sleeping, and the rooms are near soundproof. Our footsteps wouldn't even wake the most fussy of babies.

"This place creeps me out."

Boone says, and I can understand that. If I didn't know this place, I'd say it was creepy, too.

"Well, here's the Overseer's room."

"Is there where the information is?"

Charon asks, and I shake my head.

"Nope, this is the apartment. Whoever is Overseer is here."

"So what is our purpose here, then?"

"Letting the Overseer know what's what. That way when we're hacking the terminal, and they come in, they won't corner us in the room. Though, there is an escape tunnel below the desk. Just not sure if it's caved in or not yet."

I never told Charon the full story, apparently. When we make camp tonight, I'll make sure to do that. I think then, things will become a bit clearer. Hopefully, all the talking will make my voice better, too. Somehow, anyways.

Punching in random numbers, a pattern that words on all locked vault doors in here, I'm able to open the apartment door to the Overseer's room. It's bigger, than most of the living space in here. Rank I guess does mean something. Boone and Charon look around in awe at the clean environment and the pre-war furniture that's still in tip-top shape.

"Come on, guys."

I call to them. If they fall behind they might get lost. Boone more than Charon, since at least Charon was in here forever and a day ago. Twice, really. I'm sure he hasn't forgotten either episode. Walking into one of the bedrooms, I find what I'm looking for. Wrapped beneath a thin white sheet, is a small moving body. Breathing in deep, and out slowly. Putting my finger to my lips I point to the floor, telling both men to stay where they are. They nod, and I turn. Taking in a deep breath, I nervously walk towards the sleeping body.

When I get to it, I'm calmed instantly when I see a familiar brown bun on the top of their head. Nothing to be nervous about, it's only Amata, taking over where he father failed, and doing what seems like a good job.

"Hey. Hey, wakeup."

I mutter, shaking her shoulder gently.

"Hmm…no…ten more minutes…"

"No, now. Wake up."

Giving her shoulder a good push, I step back a bit. Amata groans loudly, but sits up. She takes her time in rubbing the sleep from her eyes, before she actually looks at me. When she does, it's nothing short of horror and shock.

"Holy _shit_!"

Amata backs herself into the wall that her bed is against. I sigh, not really in the mood for this.

"I just need to use the Overseer's terminal. You're the Overseer. I'm using your terminal."

"How the _fuck_ are you still alive? How did you get in here?"

"…I opened the door and walked in. So can I use the terminal or not? I have to make this fast, I'm on a schedule."

Amata ignores me, her eyes falling on Boone and Charon behind her. She's seen Charon once before, but the sight of him still scares her senseless. Maybe if she had let everyone _out_ like I told her to, the sight of a ghoul wouldn't be so goddamned scary.

"…Y-y-you said you'd _never_ come back here! What are you doing here?"

"I just _told_ you."

She points a shaking finger to Charon, her eyes rolling around in her head like a madwoman. Maybe I should be more patient with her. After all, she's never really stepped foot outside the vault. Never really, had to do what I did, had to raise a gun to save her life. In a way, I envy that. Her life here in the vault has been nothing short of safe and gratifying. Folding my arms across my chest, I scratch at my face. Amata's eyes fixate on my scarred neck, the numerous other scars that she can see in places my armor doesn't cover. She's more entranced by it all, really, finally stopping on the three diagonal scars on my face from Point Lookout.

"Y-you're a mess."

Alright. Alright. We're in no real rush here. Sure I do have to go and save Bigsley, but something is telling me that the Brotherhood isn't going to kill him anytime soon. After all, they kept me alive.

"Sure am."

"How…how did you…stay alive through all of that?"

Amata starts to calm down. I figure the only way she's going to let me use the terminal and not call security is if I take the time to talk with her. She never wanted to talk to me before, and in fact, nearly hated me. But it's for Charon. And I just have to remind myself of that. Well, we chatted here and there I guess. Looking back we weren't 'friends' but just people who didn't care enough about the other to start trouble.

"Stimpacks, radiation, medical attention. Depends on which ones you want to know about."

"Your voice…it's…changed."

"Got hurt last night. Messed up my throat."

"Last _night_? Then…then _how_ are you walking?"

"Radiation."

Shaking, Amata steps off of her bed. She stands in front of me, a few inches shorter. Reaching up, she grazes the scars on my neck. I let her, because I bet she's never seen anything like it. And it'll get me into the terminal.

"But…but radiation is harmful…isn't it?"

"To you. To Boone, to the vast majority. People like Charon and me, we're alright with it."

I motion back towards Boone and Charon, Amata doesn't understand, but she pulls her hand away from my neck.

"It's…a long, long story."

She stares at me, as if almost…it hurts her. Hurts her to look at me now. We're older, I suppose she's going to be twenty-six soon, too. She looks the same, mostly. A bit older, but that comes with age. Most of the time you don't change when you live in the vault. There's no real reason to.

"What's…what's it like, on the outside?"

A sneaky grin spreads across my face, as highlights of my best moments play in my head.

"Fun. Lots, and lots, of fun. But…it's painful and dangerous, too. I got Charon watching my back though, so most of the time I'm okay."

"I remember him. From last time."

"Yeah, he's quite the unforgettable character. So, can I use the terminal? I really don't want to waste bullets, so can you also refrain from calling the security?"

Dazed, Amata nods. I clap my hands, and turn back to my followers.

"Alright let's get what we need and get going."

Amata gets out of bed, telling us she's going to lead us to the office so that no one tries to attack. Okay that's reasonable. As we leave the apartment, I'm in awe at what she turned this place into. Last time I came here, it was ragged, dirty, dark and in need of supplies. I won't bother asking how she was able to do all of this, but I think she deserves some recognition for it.

"You did a good job in here."

Amata looks back at me, as Charon and I walk side-by-side. She smiles, proud.

"Thanks."

Entering the office, Amata sits down at the terminal. Looking up at us, a ragged bunch of misfits, she has a glint in her eye. It's not caution or even threatening. It's curious, and a tad motherly.

"What do you need?"

"Uhm, information on an old resident. The first generation of Vault 101 dwellers, and uh, his name is…"

"John. John Hughes."

Charon pipes up, folding his arms and closing his eyes. Amata nods and begins clicking away.

"It says that he was released into the Wasteland due to insubordination after…oh my god…"

"What? What is it?"

"Due to…failed cooperation with the Overseer's code. Not ever leaving the vault, basically. He didn't agree. They kicked him out."

"That's impossible."

Charon's words cause all of us to look at him. He takes large steps towards Amata, scaring her some.

"John was _killed_ here, your terminal is wrong. It's changed."

"N-no. No, I have access to all the uncensored things here, all the records. It says he was banished into the Wasteland not long after the bombs fell."

"_Impossible_! I would have seen him!"

Reaching over, I touch Charon's arm.

"Charon, you were in the Museum of History. What if you overlooked him?"

"No…no there's no way."

"Maybe he died. It was a bad time, wasn't it?"

"It was, but John wouldn't simply die out there. If he wasn't killed by something he's turned ghoul. If anything, feral."

"Not to butt in but how old are you, exactly?"

Charon leers at Amata, but she holds her stance. She doesn't know that ghouls can live exceedingly longer than humans.

"In twenty-three hundred, I will be over three-hundred years old."

"That's…that's not possible."

"Ghouls live long lives. Probably should have mentioned that. Charon was with John when they opened the vaults during the Great War. He was close to him."

I pipe in with my opinion on the matter, and Amata's eyes grow wide.

"Is this…this what happens to _everyone_ when they leave the vault?"

"Only if you're in radiation for a long time. Or overnight."

"So…so that means…that means you were here in the vault. You were one of the first to utilize it…"

"Yes."

The conversation goes between me and Amata, then Charon and Amata.

"I guess that's all there is, Charon. I'm sorry."

"He's still alive. I refuse to believe he died out there."

"He was old, Charon. Maybe…maybe death was a better alternative than a longer, ghoul life for him."

"Perhaps."

Charon's not going to give up on this, I can tell. But for the moment anyways, he does. He walks away from Amata and stands near the entrance to the office. I sigh, wishing I could make it all better for everyone.

"We'll leave now."

I don't leave room for goodbyes. Instead I have her close the outside entrance to the vault, and have her open up her father's old tunnel. It's less risky this way, and no one will be able to ask us inane questions or attack.

"Wait. Wait, Dez."

As we're walking down into the tunnel, Amata calls my name. She reaches into a locker, and grabs an extra Vault 101 suit. Her eyes tell me something entirely different.

"I have a pistol. I know how to use it. I can't live in this place, knowing there's an entire world out there just waiting to be explored."

"No."

"But you didn't let me finish."

"The answer is no."

"I won't get in the way."

"Amata…"

I sigh, rubbing my temples. Due to my injuries, my levels of patience aren't that high up there. I'm exhausted already, even though I've only been outside Megaton a few short hours. I still have to continue walking up North to get to some unknown shack, then plan out how I'm going to help Bigsley. No, there's no way she can come with us.

"Amata look. We're going to be walking for four days, to a shack that might not exist, then doubling back to the city to fight an army almost, to save a stupid guy who helped me out. You…you'd just get in the way and…no. Just…just no."

"It might help having a female in the group. The Brotherhood knows nothing of her. We could use her to our advantage."

Boone does _not_ help my argument one bit. Instead of listening to me, Amata dashes down the tunnel as she hits the button to close it behind her. There's no freakin' way to close it from where we are. Charon comes up to me, as I'm mentally beating my head against the wall.

"Perhaps Boone is on to something, Dez. At least now, he won't be itching for you."

I'm way too burnt out to even inquire as to what he means by that. Alright, brigade of random and messy travelers, let's set off and please, don't get yourself burned.


	43. Livin' Like a Bird on a Wind

(Amata)

When I first saw Dez, after so long, I didn't know what to think. I was scared, honestly. She changed…so much, since the last time I had seen her. It was… almost six years ago, that she last barged in here unannounced. Back then at least, she still looked the same. That wild hair, I think it was pink or something, and that bodyguard she called 'ghoul'. Seeing her again, now…I almost didn't recognize her.

Her hair, it's gone. A short, hugging hairstyle. More or less an inch long all around her head, it's gotten this red and brown shading to it. Scars of varying degrees litter what I could see of her body. I'm sure there's so much more, beneath the clothes she wears in place of her Vault 101 jumpsuit. Her eyes were shining, but dull, like they're the eyes of a vault elder. Wise with wisdom and age, yet young still at heart. Dez I'm sure, has seen the worst of humanity but still…she glimmers with a childish ray of hope. She's always had that, though, and I can't figure why or where it comes from.

When she came and woke me up, after I was over the initial shock, I realized something. I haven't been happy, since my dad died and I took his place. Things have been great in the vault. I managed to get everything in working order once again, and organized a scout team to go look for supplies on the outside. I sent five. Two came back, and they're still suffering from that. It's been three years, since that episode, though. But I was never happy. No matter the progress we made, or the joy of figuring out how things worked properly, could ever make me smile for long. I realize now, what it is.

Living in the vault your entire life, thinking that it's the only thing in the world left, then realizing it's not…it hard to deal with. I've kept quiet, about my wants and desires, to travel out and see the world. Those two who returned from the scouting, said it was a frightful and horrible place, but…but when I saw Dez and her relationship with the ghoul, Charon, I wondered if it was all that bad. I know I'd never get another chance to ask again, so I had to act fast. She didn't want me to come, but her friend, Boone I think he's called, voted for me to. I took him on that offer, and shut the tunnel before Dez could say none the wiser. I want to be free, too.

She leads the way, with Charon close beside her. He watches her, around her, every little movement me or this man Boone makes, doesn't go unnoticed by him. But…but I've never seen anyone this way. Never seen such a look on someone's face as Dez has when she turns to make sure we're still following. It's like…the face of an experienced traveler. Like Grognak the Barbarian. That's who she is to me right now, Grognak. Her and her bodyguard are lost in their own world, whispering quietly as they lead us, and she's so bright. In the vault growing up, she was always so blank, so secluded. She never really talked to anyone, and no one really bothered with her. I didn't find out until later, why the vault parents kept their kids from her.

Because her dad wasn't born in the vault, is why. She wasn't born in the vault. They came here, when she was less than a year old. The others, were offended by the Overseer's, my father's, choice to let them in. But we needed a doctor, we needed the help. Still, the others never took much of a liking to her. Her father, became well-known and liked, but Dezbe was always branded the outcast. Busying herself in books, and tinkering with broken electronics. It made me laugh, when she shut down the entire vault's terminal system after getting in trouble for something Butch did. No one could figure out how she did it, and she never told anyone. She just sat there, smiling and reading an old Dean's Electronics.

I guess that's why they both eventually left. I never got the full story, and by looking at her there's so much more to it. When you live in a vast world, closure and containment doesn't suit you well. She's lived this long, and even though I don't know anything about where we're going, I know that she's not just lucky. There's something about her, that helps her survive through all those scars, that not many people have. I guess, I can at least admit to myself, she's stronger than anyone I've ever met before in the vault, and more than anyone I'll meet outside I'm sure. She's…she's even stronger than me.

"Alright, moment of truth. Ready, Amata?"

We stand in the tunnel, with the Vault 101 door shut securely behind us. Rays of bright light seep through an old, broken wooden door. Charon, Dez, and Boone all stare at me, and it makes me nervous.

"Uhm…what moment?"

"You best shield your eyes."

Before I can, though, she swings open the door and I'm blinded. I cry out, covering my face with my arms and curling up.

"Ahh!"

Arms wrap around my waist, and helps me steady myself. I can't open my eyes, it burns so badly. But I realize the person holding me, is Dez.

"Hey, come on. It's alright, I got you. Walk with me, we have to go."

There's urgency and comfort there. I've never known, Dez to show anyone much kindness. She wasn't a fight-picker in the vault, but then again if anyone tried to talk to her, she'd give a direct answer and walk away. I suppose since no one played with her as a child, she doesn't have very good social skills. Right now, though, all of that is meaningless. Carefully, she holds my waist and guides me out. I feel instantly warm, then hotter until I begin to sweat. My feet touch uneven and hard, rocky ground.

"Alright we have to stay here until she can see. This is why I didn't want to bring her, but did anyone listen? Did anyone listen to the person who _knows_ what's going to happen when someone leaves the vault? No, no I don't think so."

Dez's sarcasm is gravelly, her voice sore and scratchy. Like some seductress in training. It'll suit her, though, when she comes into it. I feel her arms leaving my waist, and I have to support myself. Even I, who never spent much time with Dez, knows this is a test. A test to see if they're going to put me back in the vault, or allow me to join them. I have to stand on my own, literally, and prove I can.

"Think we should bring her to Megaton?"

My eyes are still closed tight. I'll hopefully be able to open them soon, or at least take my arm away. Leaning against this hot rock isn't very comfortable. Boone talks about me to them, about some place called 'Megaton'.

"We can't _go_ to Megaton, remember? We're stuck out here until I find myself a Fat Man and mini nukes."

"Dez, perhaps another plan would be best."

"It's the easiest."

"It is. I'll give you that."

Her and Charon talk about strange things. Fat Man? Mini nukes? I've…never heard really of that. Bringing my arm down, I see flashes of angry red under my eyelids. Now or never, so I open my eyes. It burns, but not as bad. Slowly…slowly, it becomes clear. I look first, at Dez. She sits on a boulder, looking out at something with a small smile on her face. Standing beside her, Charon, with his hand on her head in a playful manner. Boone sits in front of them, smoking a cigarette, and they're all looking at the same thing. What is it?

I find out, when I blink, and look.

"Oh…wow…"

Amazing. Sheer amazement. Before me stands a barren desert, warm, hot, with dots of people far off. There's a city, it looks like, on the horizon. A tall obelisk standing higher than anything I've seen before, towers over the structures as if it's a landmark. It is. It's so…breathtaking. A warm breeze hits me, and it's then I realize, I've never felt the wind before.

"How you doing over there?"

Boone asks me, and I return my gaze to him.

"It's…it's beautiful…"

"Not the words people usually use to describe the Capital Wasteland, but hey, whatever. Can we go now?"

Dez is impatient. I can tell she's not feeling well, there's slight circles under her eyes and her sun tanned skin is looking pale. The heat is near unbearable out here, and I'm figuring that's why she ditched this jumpsuit for something lighter.

"Hey, think we can get to a shop so I can grab an outfit like that? It's too hot in this jumpsuit."

Everyone looks at me, blank, as if I've said something stupid. Dez doesn't answer me, as she pushes past and starts to walk down a small path. Charon follows, silent, and Boone pats my back.

"You got a lot to learn. There's no shops out here. Currency is bottle caps."

"Then…then where do you get your guns?"

"Megaton, Rivet City, areas of settlement will have shops, but we're not heading in that direction. You get what you scavenge from people you kill."

"_Kill_?"

"It's survival."

Boone answers some of my questions, but not all. Kill? I have to kill, to live out here? Is that why Dez is covered in scars? Because she's gone around _killing_ everything?

"Then…then I have to _kill_ a girl to get an outfit? Is that what Dez did?"

"Yup, out here anyways. If you want to wait till we get to a trader or city, then by all means. What Dez is wearing is armor, though, not clothes. There is a difference."

"So much to learn…"

"You can say that again!"

Dez calls up as we walk down the narrow path. A puddle of something stinky on the ground makes my Pip-Boy tick. Radiation. I step away from it, while looking at my Pip-Boy. It's the same, but entirely different. For one thing, there's a map of where we are. It's labeled 'The Capital Wasteland'. On it, are locations, and believe me this place is _anything_ but the barren desert I assumed it to be. A glowing mark tells me where I am, and my compass says we're facing East. Charon, Dez and Boone show up as 'friendly'. Did Dez know any of this, when she first came out here? Lost in my own thoughts, I blindly follow the group of people I'm going to be spending a lot of time with. Lucky for me, I have people here. People to talk to and teach me things. Looking over at Dez, I realize, she was alone. Alone, when she came out here, and had to learn everything the hard way.

We kicked her out of the vault. My father, outraged for no good reason. I see now, why she was so angry at him. What drove her to kill him. I didn't understand it then, and wouldn't if I hadn't followed them out here. But now I see. I would have been just as angry, if someone did to me, what was done to her. I may have lots to learn, but I've always been a swift learner, so I'm sure I'll pick everything up as I go, if not sooner.

"Raiders up ahead."

Dez says, taking her gun off of her waist. I didn't mean this soon! My eyes grow wide, as I look up at Boone who's getting his gun off of his back.

"What's a Raider?"

"Gang of half-naked drug-addicted people who like to hurt you. And rape you. And kill you."

It's…it's worse out here than I ever could have imagined. Looking past Dez, I can faintly see a group of four people ahead. No one's shooting, though. Instead, they're all looking at me.

"What? What is it?"

Dez takes the pistol from my waist, and places it in my hands.

"We'll watch you. You need to get your first kill out of the way. Faster the better, then you'll just get use to it."

"What? What no, I've never killed anything in my life! Not even a Radroach."

"Then you can go back to the vault, because I don't have time to babysit out here."

She's tough, Dez. She's tough and stern with me. Swallowing hard, I feel my fingers close around the pistol. Dez, is also, right. I chose this, begged them to let me come, and now I have to prove myself. If I don't kill them, they'll kill me, right.

"Keep both eyes open, and don't lock your elbows. There's a recoil. Take aim, and when you're ready, _squeeze_ the trigger, don't pull. If they get too close, we'll handle them. But you _have_ to shoot."

She coaches me with experience. I trust her because this has been her life. Her life, since we banished her forever, since _I_ banished her. I never would have, if I knew the truth. Inhaling deeply, I get one of the Raiders in line with the barrel of the pistol. Everyone else has their weapons drawn, ready, as they let them hang limply in their hands. The Raider sees me, I know because they're closer and I have to do this. I have to. Closing my eyes, I squeeze.

I've never heard a gun sound so soft before. In the confines of the vault, there's a deafening echo. Sure out here it's loud but…but nothing like inside. Nothing. A cry of pain tells me I hit my target. Rather than being sick, rather than scared that I hurt someone, I'm oddly pleased. Am I also, suited to live this life?

"Alright she's crippled, hit her again."

Dez's gruff voice rings in my ear, and I take aim again. The Raider is limping, angry. The others are running up behind her. I don't aim for her head, because I know it's too small. Instead I fire one, twice, into her torso. She falls, and Dez's claps her hands loudly.

"Alright! Dead like a Molerat in hunting season!"

I don't have to fire again. I'm glad, too. Stricken with shock and disbelief, I watch as Dez charges head-on into the three leftover Raiders. One handed, she fires her small gun. Charon's weapon is loudest, firing a menagerie of bullets into his enemy. They get closer to them, than I did. Boone's the only one who hangs back with me, taking aim through a mounting something on his gun. When he squeezes the trigger, he doesn't even look to make sure his target is hit.

"How do you know you hit it?"

Strapping his gun to his back, Boone shrugs.

"I just know."

"Why didn't you get closer, like they did?"

"Shotguns are close-range weapons. Charon's using a modified Combat Shotgun. He's seemingly had it for a while, my the looks of it and how easy he's able to handle it. It's stronger than most standard Combat Shotguns, I can tell that by the recoil and the noise. Dez is using a Sawed-Off Shotgun. A one or two-shot weapon that can be held with one hand, or two, depending on the holder's strength and familiarity with it. Shotguns, although close-range, usually leave nothing behind of their targets. I use a scoped Hunting Rifle. It's quieter, and easier to aim with less kickback. It's a ranged weapon, which means I don't have to get as close to the enemy, as Charon and Dez do."

"You know a lot about guns."

"Everyone does."

"How do you know what's best for you?"

"You learn. Right now, a pistol is good for your ability. Learn on that and choose your next weapon carefully. Tonight I'll show you how to care for your weapon. It's vital to your survival, and without one, you might as well lie down and die."

"How come Dez and Charon use shotguns?"

"Because it's what their good at using. Everyone is alright with all weapons, but everyone has a special liking to a certain kind. Charon's a mercenary, one well-trained in hand-to-hand and close-ranged weaponry. His shotgun tells more about him, than he'll ever tell me. Dez uses one, because it fits her, really. A small but deadly piece of equipment, it's light and easy to transport and repair. And I'm sure because she likes the spray of blood that it leaves when it hits the targets."

"She _likes_ blood? And how do you know this? Charon told you he's a mercenary?"

"No, Dezbe told me."

He doesn't say anything more than that. I follow behind him, scared, as the thought that I just killed someone sets in. Charon mutters something, but I can't hear and frankly I don't want to. I've been outside my only known home for not even an hour, and already I'm a murderer, found out my old schoolmate is a bloodthirsty maniac, and that there's a giant mercenary on call to kill with his bare hands. I'm not in the least, regretting leaving the vault. Only…only it's a lot to take in, in such a short time. I don't even know, where we're going to sleep.

There's instances, where more fighting has to happen. I can't get my gun off of my waist and by the time I do, it's all over. Looking around, I see that in the distance there's the cliff where the entrance to Vault 101 is, and I know we're not very, very far away. Still, I've never walked this far in my life. Looking ahead, I see Dez on the ground, yelling obscenities as Boone rushes over. Charon, already, is by her side.

"What happened? What is it?"

I kneel down in front of Dez. She's more angry than hurt, as her guttural and soon-to-be seducing voice cries out.

"Fucker _hit me_!"

Only when I lower my gaze to her thigh, where her hands are clamped tight, do I see the blood seeping from between her fingers. So fast. All of this, is happening so fast.

"Are you alright? What do you need?"

"Nothing. She's fine."

Charon says as he pours dirty water over her hands. The second the water touches her skin, she moves her fingers to let it get into the wound.

"Hey! Hey stop! That's filthy!"

Charon ignores me, and so doesn't Dez. Before I know it, the tear in her pants that shows the bloody wound, is nothing more than that. A tear in her pants, with a pink scar beneath.

"It's radiation, Amata. It heals me, but it'll make you look like Charon or die. I'm fine."

Dez stands up casual, like that didn't just happen. Charon discards the empty dirty water bottle on the ground, and looks at Dez.

"Perhaps we should make camp, and wait until you're fully healed."

Healed? It was just fixed, wasn't it?

"I'm fine, Charon. Come on."

He pulls her up ahead, and I go to chase them, but Boone stops me.

"No, they need to speak."

"Speak about what?"

"Stay."

I raise an eyebrow and look ahead at them, as we all walk. What do they need to speak about? It sounds like, almost, they're arguing. Dez does hand motions and stomps her foot the same way she would when arguing with the teacher we had. Charon shakes his head, anger and worry on his face. From what I can see, anyways. What's really astounding to me, though, is that they can argue with one another and let this entire dangerous world fall second. Maybe that's because Dez has been out here a whole six years longer than I have, but still. I don't think I'd ever be able to let my guard down enough, to fight with someone who's supposed to be protecting me. This place…as beautiful as it is to someone who has spent their entire life underground, is still scary and dangerous.

My feet are killing me by the time sun sets. I'm sweaty, filthy, tired, sore, and seen enough murder and blood splatter to last me a lifetime. There isn't a place on my body, that doesn't have a speck of someone _else's_ blood. Dez even made me raise and fire my gun a couple times, even though I really didn't need to because her and Charon had it under complete control. I guess, though, she wants me to learn how to fend for myself. Dez has never been one to vocalize much of anything, aside from her displeasure, so maybe this is her way of setting me up to live, on the off chance that one day I won't have her or Boone or even Charon to defend me. Call me crazy though but, I think that Charon's so loyal to Dez, he'd never leave her side even if I needed him. Which is okay by me, last thing I want to wake up across from is some half-rotten monster staring back at me.

"I guess here is good."

Dez says, sitting herself down. She looks at me, as she reaches up to take the pack from Charon's back while he walks by. I smile at her.

"The fuck you smiling about?"

"Nothing."

Wow. She sure has changed, more than just looks, too. Dez was never the kind to challenge someone like that. Of course, she always made sure to tell people when they were wrong, though. Nine times out of ten, she was right, too. Boone sits down a few feet across from Dez, and I figure this is where we'll be sleeping.

"Did anyone bring a sleeping bag?"

I ask, and Dez starts a howling laugh as she digs through the pack that's now at her feet.

"Sleeping bag? Sleeping Beauty we aren't in the vault. You're sleeping exactly where you're sitting."

"You mean…on the _ground_?"

"Look if you want a bed I'm sure there's an abandoned house close by. Course you'll have to dust away the skeletons of the people who lived there first, though."

She pulls out a bottle of clear liquid, on the front someone with messy handwriting scribbled the word 'Vodka'. She can't be drinking out here, can she?

"Hey…where'd Charon go?"

Dez's eyes narrow at my innocent question. The air shifts for a minute, as she closes the pack and sets the bottle in front of her.

"He went to get firewood and food. What's it to you?"

"Nothing I was just asking. Why are you in such a mood?"

"I'm not."

Charon comes back soon enough, with a dead, skinless creature balanced on his shoulders and an armful of wood. He drops the wood, and Boone gets to work lighting a fire. I stare at the dead creature, my nose turned up, as Charon brings out a knife and begins carving into it.

"We're eating _that_?"

"Did you forget where you were _again_, Princess?"

"Dez, you know my name."

"Sure do, Princess."

"Listen I'm sure when you first got out here you were a bit taken aback by all of this."

"I was, but I wasn't picky, either. When I got hungry, I had to scavenge what I could. If I was tired, then I had to sleep where it was safe. I didn't sit there picking out the bits of dirt in my food or whining about the hard ground. I had to survive. I didn't have anyone to protect me."

The fire pops to life as Boone silently sits back down. He's been awful quiet most of the day, so I'm guessing he's not really into talking. Looking at the growing flames, I catch Dez looking at me behind them. She's not glaring, or anything mean, she's just looking.

"You had Charon, didn't you?"

Speak of the devil. He comes over and puts some bloody pieces of meat on a few long sticks, and takes his seat next to Dez. Sitting very close to her, too, mind you.

"Dez, you sure it's alright for you to drink?"

"I'm fine, Charon. And no, _Amata_, I didn't have Charon, actually. I thought I told you this?"

Blood drips of off the meat, making the fire sizzle and crack. Dez takes a long sip of the Vodka, before passing it to Charon who passes it to Boone without taking so much as a sip.

"You mean…you mean you were alone? For how long?"

She holds up three fingers, as she searches for something in her pocket.

"Three months."

Three _months_? She did this _alone_ for _three months_? Wow, I'm impressed. A part of me, too, envies her a bit. I'd never be able to adapt that quickly, and probably would have died within the first day. Let alone survive for three months.

"So…so then how'd you meet Charon? I mean, do you pay him? He's a bodyguard, isn't he?"

Boone hands me the bottle, but I give it back to Dez. I've never drank before, and don't necessarily intend to start now. Before answering my question, Dez takes another long gulp and lights a cigarette. Will I one day, be drinking, smoking, and swearing like Dez? Is that what this place does to people?

"Ahhh…how do I explain this to the soft mind of a vault-dweller? Charon help me out here?"

"We met in Underworld, a ghoul city in the D.C. ruins. She purchased my contract, and since then I have been in her presence."

"Contract? Wait. Wait, so, you're like…like a…"

"No, Amata, he's not a slave."

Dez cradles the bottle in her arms like it's a newborn child. She blows smoke rings out into the night sky, and I look up at the billions of tiny stars above. I've never seen them before.

"He doesn't even have his contract anymore, if that makes you feel better, Princess."

Looking back at Dez, I raise a curious eyebrow.

"So…so why stay? If you're not getting paid, Charon, and you have no reason, why do it?"

Dez answers my question for him, closing her eyes, smiling, and throwing her arms around his waist.

"Because he _looooves_ me!"

She giggles to herself, and Charon pats her head. A burp tells me she's on her way to being tipsy if not drunk. Out of the corner of my eye, Boone leans forward and moves the sticks of meat away from the fire to cool. Never would have guessed they'd be done, but I'm not going to complain. I'm too hungry to.

"Hey Dez?"

She's busy rubbing her head against Charon's thigh, and taking small sips of Vodka to really notice me right away. They're a bit close, for a bodyguard and employer. Dez doesn't answer me, but hears me. By the time she's going to, Charon hands her a piece of meat. He keeps the smaller one for himself, and Boone hands me a larger one as well. I hold it in my hands, disgusted. Dez takes a few bites after she picks her head up from Charon's lap, and then hands it to him. She smiles, softly, her eyes just as soft. I take a bite from it, too, and it doesn't taste too awful.

"Eat. Eat because you're bigger."

Charon hesitates before complying. This strange connection these two have, I'm suspecting is far deeper than what I'm able to understand. After some strips of my own meat has been eaten away, I hand it to Boone in the same manner, smiling and trying to mimic the kindness. He takes his, but says nothing.

"What, Princess?"

Dez takes another sip of her bottle, before Charon officially takes it away, cutting her off.

"Butch left the vault after you, you know. Did you ever run into him? Is he alright?"

Before I even finish the sentence, I know I said something wrong. Dez sits up, staring into the fire, blank like she's gone dumb. Charon glares at me, like I was supposed to know something I don't. I watch Dez, after I glance at Boone to see his reaction. He has none, he's just smoking his cigarette, quiet as ever. Dez blinks slowly, smoking her cigarette in short breaths. She exhales the smoke into the fire, and her eyes glass over.

"It's just, you two were so close in the vault. I was hoping, that maybe you saw him? Maybe, you know, would know where he is? I kinda miss him, the others do, too. Could we go see him?"

"Butch is dead, Amata."

Dez has no emotion in her voice, none whatsoever. I would have thought, that delivering the news that one of our classmates and her ex-boyfriend is dead, would bother her or something. But it doesn't, not that I can tell anyways.

"What? Dez, why? How do you know?"

"Charon killed him."

My hands fly to my mouth, as my eyes widen and I feel tears coming out.

"How _could_ you?"

I demand, staring right at Charon. His eyes have no color, they're white, and they scare me.

"He raped me. That's how."

"What? What do you mean? Dez you're taking nonsense."

Faster than anything before, Dez stands up on her feet. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she picks up the half-empty bottle of Vodka. Throwing it into the fire in rage, the glass breaks and the fire shoots up for an instant. Angry, she steps over it, like she's larger than life, and gets really, really close to my face. I almost fall back, because she's so close to me. I can smell the liquor on her breath, as she blows smoke at me.

"What I _mean_ is he took a knife, see? He took a _fucking_ knife, and held it to my throat _just like this_."

She's gone mad! She's positively _insane_! She holds a knife to my throat, not pressing hard enough to hurt me, but enough so I know it's there.

"And he unzipped his pants, pulled my knees apart, and shoved his pitiful manhood inside like I was his personal _whore_! Do you get it now, Princess Amata? _Do you_?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat pushing against the blade of the knife.

"I…I…yes…"

"Good."

She moves away from me, and I take in a deep breath. Wrapping my hand around my throat, I stare at Dez as she throws the knife into the ground, storming away from the fire.

"Perhaps, Amata, you should watch what you ask."

Charon throws at me, before he gets up to follow her. I go to get up, too, thinking they're leaving but Boone grabs my arm.

"They're mad. Let them be. They'll come back."

"What if they don't?"

"They will."

"How do you know?"

"They left their guns."

I look over and realize Boone is right. I guess, out here, your gun is the most important thing to you. But as I watch Charon follow Dez into the darkness, I wonder, if maybe, there's a lot more to her, than what she'll ever tell me.


	44. Crazy Things Have Great Wings

(Dez)

"How could she!"

I slam my fists into the hard ground as soon as I'm far enough away from the campsite. Charon's feet thud behind me, as I kneel down, tipsy tears spilling out as the harsh memories of Butch flood my mind.

"Dez…"

Charon wraps his arms around my waist, holding my hips tightly, like I'm going to sink into oblivion. Which, if you ask me at this point, wouldn't be so bad. I didn't want Amata tagging along for good reasons. Didn't want to have to play 'babysitter' to her stupid self, and didn't want her asking questions like she is. No one was on my side though. No one piped up to defend me, when Boone suggested that she come. I'm only supposed to be responsible for me, not…not some two-bit twat who can't even stomach shooting a goddamned Raider.

"Why…why…"

I ask no one, as I dig my nails into the dirt.

"She didn't know, Dezbe. It's alright, calm down."

"No it's not alright! It's not alright at all! I haven't thought about Butch in years and here she is bringing him up like it's no big deal."

"Because maybe to her, it wasn't. She had no idea, how was she to know?"

"Why are you defending her, Charon? Why?"

"I'm not, I'm only stating the facts here."

Pulling my head into my hands, I feel snot running from my nose. Charon pulls me onto his lap, as his arms wrap around my upper body.

"You're still not well, Dez."

"Is that all you're concerned with? My physical wellness?"

"And your mental. Dez, you've never talked about that night before. Maybe you should."

"I _did_ talk about it. Just now, you were there."

He smoothes my hair down on my head, and I look up at him. He fits really well, against the black-blue sky.

"You know what I mean, Dezbe."

"Charon I didn't want this to end up this way."

"End up in what way?"

"With Amata and Boone in our party. I just wanted it to be you and me. Just you and me, and then we could go and live like we used to. I figured…figured that Boone would leave after we were finished with the Brotherhood. Not opt for a fourth person to tag along when this is _my_ life. I don't even know…I don't know anymore."

He smiles down at me, rubbing my arms to keep me warm in the cold night. It's not that cold, though, and I think he just wants something to keep himself busy.

"If you mean that, then there's no stopping you and I from sneaking away in the middle of the night. To be fair, I don't necessarily like Boone. I have no opinion of Amata."

"You like Amata, just say it."

"I don't have an opinion on her."

Pushing off of him, I stand up, angry.

"_Everyone_ likes Amata, Charon. She's the Overseer's pride and _fucking_ joy! I saw the way she was looking at you!"

"What?"

"You heard me! What? You think I fucking _trust_ you after Jackie? After Lily? Tell me how many else were there in between?"

"Dez, calm down, you've had a bit too much to drink and you're not well."

"Fuck you! Fuck you that I'm not well! I'm fucking _fantastic_, Charon!"

He stands up, his body language telling me he's in no mood for nonsense.

"Dez, listen to me. Calm down, and come back to the fire."

"No."

"We don't have our guns with us, we could be ambushed."

"How many were there in between, Charon? How _fucking_ many?"

"None, if answering you will make you calm down. There were none, I promise."

"You make a lot of empty promises."

"This is no such thing."

Kicking up dirt, I show my anger to him. I bare my teeth and open and close my fists. Charon stares at me, not amused and not hindered.

"I don't trust you."

"I know, and that's alright. I'm here to prove now, you can."

"Until another hot ass flirts itself by. Until Amata sees that you're a prime source for protection. Then what? You going to draw up a fake contract and sell yourself to her for her goods?"

"What? No, what? Dezbe…you're acting insane, alright? I have no interest in any other woman."

"At the moment."

"No, never."

"Then why'd you do it, huh? Why'd you go and fuck Jackie and go back to Lily?"

Tears pour down my cheeks and Charon finally sees. He sees what I've been trying to hide and suppress for years and years. My own pitiful, and immature, insecurities. My fear of being alone, my fear of abandonment. My fear, that there is someone better out there for him. That one day, I may not be enough for the only man I've ever loved. That one day, like everyone else has in the past, he too will leave, for something greater and better. I should know by now, he won't. Know that I'm his and he is mine and there's no changing that. For a time, I did, too. I believed with my whole heart, Charon would never hurt or betray me. But come to find out, he did. And it hurts. It hurts more, than anything else I've felt. It makes all the rest of the world seem stupid and insignificant. The Brotherhood and their plans, the people and what will happen to them if I don't help, Boone, Gob, nothing seems to hold water, to the thought of Charon leaving me for something better.

"…I…I don't know. I didn't care for them, though Dez. You have to believe me, trust me, on that."

"I don't, Charon. I don't trust you."

"If I cared for them so much then, why did I come back? Why did I give up something, that means so much to every ghoul in the world, and come back to you then?"

"Because Gob told you to."

"What? Dez, Gob didn't tell me to do anything."

"Well then I don't know!"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you, I'm sorry that…that I did what I did. I don't expect you to trust me at all anytime soon but please, calm down."

"Did you even think of me? Was I even a stupid memory to you, then?"

Charon takes a step closer, outstretching his arms to me. I take a step back, shaking my head. Maybe it is the vodka, telling me to act this way. It would have happened sooner or later, but the liquor helped.

"I thought of you, Dez. I dreamt of you every night. I'll admit I'm wrong, just tell me."

"Then why?"

I clutch my stomach as I fall to my knees. Stricken with the realization and the burden of the emotional pain. It was delayed, fogged by the happy feelings of him returning. But it's here now, and it's harsh. As I curl there, my knees against my chest, my tears dripping into the dirt, I feel Charon's hands on my back.

"Hey…hey, it'll be alright."

"Shut up."

"You'll be alright, come here. I'm sorry."

With my head still down, Charon's able to get me into a sitting up position. I don't want to look at him, it hurts, too much.

"Don't cry, little girl, don't cry."

"I can't help it. It hurts…it…"

"And I'm here to fix that, can you look at me?"

Opening my eyes, I look at him.

"Dez, believe me if I could I would take it all back. I would never have left you alone with Raul, I would have gone into that room when I heard Butch going in there, and I would have beaten the piss out of myself for even letting myself think of being with another woman."

"Butch has nothing to do with this."

"I let you down. Every instance, where I failed in my contractual, and emotional duties to you, has everything to do with this."

"I don't know what to do anymore. I'm scared, Charon. I'm so scared."

"What are you scared of?"

For the first time, there's no barriers. There's no…no guards. For the first time, I tell him, knowing where the pain comes from. He pulls me into his arms, holding me in comfort, as I prepare myself to do what I've never done before. Admit, everything I was ever scared to admit.

"Being alone. I've been alone, so alone, my whole life. No one…no one's ever cared about me before, Charon. They were too busy with something else. I'm so scared, that I'll lose you just like I lost my mom. Like I lost my dad. I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be alone when I die. I don't want to fight for the rights of people, who hate me when I walk past. You loved me, Charon and I loved myself because of that. Then…then you weren't there suddenly and…and I didn't know. I didn't know what to do…I…please…"

I cry against his armor, gripping it tightly, like I did the night in Megaton. He was there for me then, there for me when I had no one else. For the first time, I have someone to be with me. Someone who loves me, for me, and only me. But I'm so scared of it, because he left. He left, and I thought…I thought since we were in love, nothing could go wrong. But it did. It all went wrong, and now I'm questioning everything. Everything that I do, that I'm supposed to do, and all that I've done.

"It's okay, to be scared, Dez."

"You're never scared, Charon. You were never scared."

He sighs, stroking the back of my neck.

"I was, and I do get scared at times."

"No you don't."

"When you almost died in front of me the other night, I was scared. When the Talons forced me to hurt you, I was scared then. Whenever you're hurt, or in danger, I feel scared. I just don't show you that, because I am supposed to be strong. It's what I was trained to be, and what you expect of me."

"You still do what you need to do."

"No, there is nothing I need to do."

Pulling away from him, I stare up. My cheeks are stained with the remnants of tears, but I don't cry. Anger, pain, and sadness beckon and they set in quite fast…but Charon…Charon makes it all alright.

"What?"

"All that I do now, is not because I have to, but because I want to."

"But you left me. We fought in the tunnels and you didn't chase me."

"How could I face you? I was ashamed, embarrassed, and felt you deserved so much better than what I was able to give. Dez, you have to believe me on that."

"You're stupid, to think I deserve anything."

Charon stands up, pulling me to my feet. We stand in front of each other, his hands holding mine. He kisses my head, resting his head against my forehead.

"Even when there's no one left to fight, Dezbe, I will still be here."

"What if I can't fight anymore? What if…what if I can't get back at the Brotherhood?"

"Then none of that matters, and I will be here still."

"And if I hate you for days and days, angry about Jackie and Lily."

"I'll put up with it, because I don't expect you to forgive me soon."

"…It still hurts…"

"Then tell me when it does. Tell me when you have a problem, if something is bothering you or in your way. I can't help you, if you won't talk to me."

"Because I…I'm still not use to…to having someone there to help me."

"You should."

My beloved monster and me. We go everywhere together, fight the bad guys, and balance each other out. In this mean, cruel, world, I have to grow up and realize, I have the best thing to make it all go away. Being alone, no matter how long it's been since then, is still something hard to let go of and get over. Stupid fears, stupid insecurities, even the strongest people have them. I'm no great exception. I'd do anything, if it came down to it, to keep him in my life. He's the only thing, that I really have anymore.

"Come on. Dry your eyes, and let's go back to camp."

He kisses my forehead again, and I wipe my face clean with the back of my hand. I catch his eyes as I look up, and he catches mine.

"You're the prettiest thing I've seen in a long time, Charon."

Shaking his head, Charon sighs at me.

"I do love you, though, seriously."

"I know you do. And you know that I love you too."

"Yeah…yeah but it still hurts. Because someone else was with you, and I wasn't across the country."

"I know it does. But in the end, I have always chosen you. Not to say they held a candle but stating facts."

We begin to walk back, his arm around my shoulder. He lights a cigarette, and I try to take it from him.

"Give your throat rest. From the yelling and the drinking, I think it may be sore."

"Yeah…yeah I don't think so."

I take it from him and savior the sweet, sweet taste of nicotine. Pressing my head into the crook where his arm meets his torso, I wonder if I just may be pretty fuckin' lucky.

"So what do you think of Amata?"

"I think she should have stayed in the vault, if you want my honest opinion. She's not nearly as quick-witted or adaptable as you."

"Maybe it's because I left when I was a lot younger."

"No, I think it's perhaps the way you grew up. Amata seems like she had many friends and socialization."

"She did. She always had a best friend of the week. I was busy reading books."

"Hopefully Boone will be interested in her, and leave you alone, like I said before."

"What's with that, anyways? You and Boone have some altercation I'm not aware of?"

"You could say that."

I can't ask much more, because we're close to camp. I was hoping that Amata and Boone would be sleeping by now, but they're not. We weren't gone long, a half hour at most. The night is still early, but I was hoping that hell, maybe even Amata would be asleep. She's never had so much exercise in her entire life. But then, I'm wrong.

Sitting back down at the fire, Charon takes the half cigarette from me and begins to puff on it himself. They're quiet, it's quiet, everyone's quiet. Better than Amata asking questions, anyways.  
"Hey Dez?"

I spoke too soon.  
"What?"

"I'm sorry. If I had known…I wouldn't have asked."

"Shit happens."

It's easier to just shut her up, than to have her rant on. Charon rubs my back with his palm, his finger brushing a scar I have going across the back of my upper shoulders. I jump, when I feel his fingers graze it.

"Where'd that one come from?"

He asks, genuinely curious. I smile, since I'm proud of that one.

"Oh, it's a great story. I got it in New Vegas. Boone, you know the Powder Gangers?"

Boone look up at me, smirking.

"Mhm."

"The Powder Gangers are a small gang in the Mojave Wasteland, for all two of you who don't know."

"Alright so where'd the scar come from?"

Charon seems to want me to get to the point.

"Well, it was me against like three of them. They didn't like me much. I had no ammo, or really not a lot, and I was outnumbered. After I emptied all my bullets on one of them, there were still two more. So I had to fist it. That, right there, is what happens when you go into a knife fight with no knife. But I won, so I'm happy."

"Wow, Dez, that's pretty impressive."

As I'm smiling my little head off, Charon has to butt in.

"Take everything she says with a grain of salt. Especially when she's drunk."

Boone and Amata laugh and I stick my tongue out at Charon. Ripping the cigarette from his fingers, I finish it for him before throwing it into the fire.

"You do have a lot of scars though, Dez."

Amata is like a kid in a candy store for the first time. It gets annoying. _Everyone_ out here has some array of scars. Some they're proud of, some they're not. I'm just a bit more littered with them because I seem to find myself in more trouble.

"Yeah I know. It's from fighting. Most of them, anyways."

"Most of? What isn't from fighting?"

"The ones that had to be made."

"Had to…?"

Amata won't get it. She won't understand unless I tell her. I suppose I should lighten up. This is a nice night, clear sky, hot fire, 'friends' and Charon. We're full with food and there's a few beers in Charon's pack. So…so I guess really, it's not bad to have a break and talk.

"Well, like this one."

I lift up my shirt, showing her the remnants of the horizontal scar over my lower stomach. The muscles showing from the Deathclaw the other night kind of warp it, but it's still there.

"I got that one when Charon and I were getting out of a Talon base. If I didn't let it happen, we would have both gotten hurt. Sometimes, you have to let people hurt you, so you don't get killed. Bigger picture thinking, really."

"You remember where you got every scar? There's so many…"

"Well, you don't exactly forget. It hurts to get them, so you kind of have to remember them."

Sounds of metal clicking together makes me look over to my right. Charon's busy unstrapping the top half of his armor. I smile at this. It's not often, he'll take it off when we're not in cover. It shows he's getting more comfortable. Even though it's been so long, Charon and I still have a long way to go, before we both fully know ourselves, and each other.

Leaning back on my palms, I stretch my legs out and give a yawn. The stars seem to shine a bit brighter tonight, but I can't tell you why.

"How's everyone in the vault? They miss me?"

"No, not really. But they're good. Wally and I were supposed to get married but I changed the rule on that. Figured it was for the best."

"Yeah, yeah that's good. Wally's a joke, anyways. What about you? You find your dad?"

"My dad died a long time ago, Amata."

"Oh I'm sorry…"

"No it's alright."

I can tell she expected me to flip out again.

"He died for a…for a bigger cause. Like my explanation about the scar. If he had done what the bad guys wanted him to do, then the world would be worse off than it is now. He's with my mom now, too, so it's okay. Just wish I knew him more."

Moving myself, I put my left side closest to the fire, and put my hands behind my head. Charon stays sitting up, and I nudge him with my toe to come and lie with me. He does, propping his head up on his palm, resting on his elbow, he reaches over me with a stick and pokes the fire.

"You two are pretty close, huh?"

Amata asks, laying down and using the extra vault suit she brought as a pillow.

"Yup. We are. Been through a lot together, haven't we Charon?"

"That's an understatement."

"Are there anymore bodyguards for hire? I mean, I don't want to be alone out here."

"You have Boone."

Charon just unofficially appointed Boone as Amata's babysitter. We all look at him, waiting for his answer.

"Suits me fine."

Boone by now is laying down, too. He's using his own pack as a pillow, and staring up at the stars. Wonder what made him so quiet all of a sudden? Before when it was me and him, we'd talk. It was only for a few days, but shit the man talked at least. Maybe it's for the best that I don't ask questions, though.

"So, Charon. You're been with Dez for how many years?"

"Two years."

"But she's been out here six almost. Seven?"

"I took a five year break in New Vegas. A city out on the West Coast. Self-discovery."

I tell her, taking the stick away from Charon and tossing it into the fire. He rests his hand on my hip, putting his head down behind me.

"And when you came back, he was here?"

"More or less. He wasn't waiting patiently if that's what you mean, but he was here. And now we're here. Nothing big or dramatic."

"It sounds like it is."

"It's really not."

Narrowing my eyes, I silently challenge Amata. Even in the vault, she would never really stand up to me. Not that I bullied her, I never did, but she just has this thing about her that says 'I'm going to be the victim my entire life'. As if she'd never really own up to what she had done to deserve to be the victim. There were even instances where I'd have to stand up for her, for lack of a better term. It wasn't anything serious, or like I was doing it because I wanted to be her friend, please, spare me. I only stuck up for her because, well, it was the right thing to do. And harassing the shit out of someone because they're simply the daughter of the Overseer isn't worth picking a fight over. Now, say she got special rights and privileges because of that, okay, fight worthy. I guess my viewings are kind of screwy these days, huh?

"To someone who hasn't been out of the vault, Dez, it is dramatic. Almost like you're living this amazing, adventurous life fighting bad guys."

"Eh…not so much _bad_ guys. But shit I'll take the compliment."

"What about the people? Do you have anyone else out here besides Boone and Charon?"

Shrugging, I motion for Charon to get me another cigarette. He shakes his head at me, eyes closing.

"I have Gob in Megaton. He's my best friend out here. Other than that…there's really no one."

"You mean to tell me, with all the people you have to pick from, you only have this small group plus one other?"

"Amata, let me clarify. This 'small group' is just that. You and Boone are not my 'friends' but mere nuisance on your part, and help on Boone's. Charon is my friend, and Gob, too. Everyone else either hates me or…yeah, hates me."

"How come?"

"It's a long story, Amata. Go to bed."

With that I roll over, my back facing the fire and warming it. I press my face into Charon's chest, breathing in and out deeply. I take in his scent, his feel, everything as I close my eyes. I'm not tired, really, but I guess I can sleep. It's better, than having to explain a six-year story about what happened after I left the vault. Much easier, actually, because Amata doesn't know the Talons, Enclave, Brotherhood, Outcasts, The Pitt Raiders or Ashur. She doesn't know any of them. It'd be too much, to have to tell her in one night. Amata doesn't take summaries, either. She has to know the ins and outs to every little thing. I prefer the haunting and comforting images of my dreams, over her stupid questions. She'll figure it out, in due time.


	45. Meet Me, I've Failed to Suffer

(Amata)

In the middle of the night, I wake up. Sleeping on this hard ground in this place will take me some getting use to. I wonder, how long it took Dez to adjust to living out here? She seems so well-adjusted to all of it. I know she has six years of experience on me, but it's like she's a whole different person. The quiet, nerdy loner of the vault is long gone. No longer, is she quiet and slightly reserved, only speaking when she either has something to say, or someone to challenge. Now…now I can't even begin to describe her. I wonder, if she even remember who she was before? A part of me, doesn't really think so. I guess when you become someone new, and much improved, your former self is long forgotten. You're left only, with scraps and pieces, of what you used to be.

Sitting up, I yawn and rub my back. It's stiff and sore. This entire outside sleeping thing might not be for me. I knew that this life would be different from vault-life, but I guess I just didn't understand how extreme and different it truly would be. Shivering from the cold breeze, I wonder if putting on the other vault suit will help any.

"If you're cold, I can start the fire."

I jump at the sound of Charon's voice. Looking over the burning ambers and coals of the dying fire, I see he's sitting up, smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, I didn't know you were awake."

He quietly places a few thick branches on the embers, making the small flames come to life again in an instant. Next to him, Dez snores quietly and peacefully, stuck in a deep sleep. I envy that.

"Can't sleep either?"

I ask him, putting my hands new the new and warm flames. He shakes his head.

"I can. I just find it difficult to at the moment."

"Why?"

As I ask the question, Dez's arm shoots outward, grazing a part of a branch that hasn't yet caught fire.

"That's why."

Charon says, brushing her hand away from the fire so she doesn't get burned. I giggle a bit, at the comical scene.

"You really like her, huh?"

"Yes, I do."

"She's a lot different now, you know. She wasn't this way at all in the vault."

"How so?"

Letting my eyelids fall a bit, I stare into the fire. It's mesmerizing, and helps in a way, me remember those times that seem like lifetimes ago.

"She…she was never this bold. Dez either had her nose in a book, or was tinkering with some broken piece of electrical equipment. Quiet, solitary, never really getting along with anyone. The only time she opened her mouth to talk, was if she had something to say or if she wanted to challenge someone. She really never got close to anyone but Butch, and even now thinking back, she wasn't close to him, either."

I remember instances and small moments of my sixteen-year-old self bumping into Dez like a timeline. Even though it was me, who woke her and warned her of the goings on around the vault when her dad left, I didn't do it because she was my friend. I did it really, because I didn't want to see another person die like Jonas had. For no reason, and for something they had no control over. That kind of insanity, wasn't what Vault 101 was about. The clicking of a lighter causes me to look up. Charon lights another cigarette, as he discards his old one into the fire.

"Hm. She told me no one wanted to talk to her."

"They didn't."

I answer before I think, and I feel bad. Charon narrows his eyes, ready to defend Dezbe at a second's notice.

"I mean, she wasn't one of us. Her dad and her weren't born in the vault."

"She's told me that."

"You see we needed a doctor. Then Dez's dad, James, comes pounding on the vault door and says he's one. It was almost…almost too good to be true. There was a discussion, on if they should let him in, what with a newborn and all in his arms. The majority ruled, that they'd be letting him in not because he needed help, but because we needed his help. Just so, you know, we wouldn't let in anyone who arrived at our front door. My dad, he was the one who let them in. And…and the others…never took to her. Even though they voted, and decided to open it as a democracy, it never changed the fact that James and Dez weren't pure, clean, vault-dwellers like we were. Eventually, people came to respect and like James for his practice, and for his invention of new and effective medicines with what little resources we had. They came to trust him. But…but Dez…not her. No one ever told her she wasn't born in the vault, she never really asked, anyways. She didn't see a difference, only that the people didn't like her. Everyone else, even us kids, knew that Dez didn't belong. That she wasn't a part of our community solely based on the fact that…she wasn't born on the inside. She was an outcast, from the day her father brought her here. Sometimes…I wonder if she would have had a better life, if her father allowed her to be raised out here."

Charon sits, patiently listening to every word I said. His eyes, urge me to continue on as he quietly smokes his cigarette. I think he's intrigued if not interested by all of this. He's never had someone else explain it to him from another viewpoint, I'm saying. Only hearing Dez's opinion, and her truth. Not the truth, of someone who was also there.

"Out here…I realize, suits her so well. I noticed that when you two first came back to the vault. She just…I don't know, _fit_. Fit with what I imagined this world to be. There wasn't fear in her eyes, but then again there wasn't the innocent look we all have when we grow up in the vault, either. It was like…she became this hardened, closed off person yet…yet she fit that, more than she ever did a vault-child."

Charon exhales a lot of smoke, and scratches the back of his hand.  
"Dez did not come into this world, all-knowing everything there was to know. It was not like she stepped out, and instantly felt as if she belonged. When I met her, she was still learning as she is now, and still searching for that place where she's meant to be. Even still, at the age of twenty-five, Dez is still that small child inside the vault. Having you around, brings out those fears, Amata. Those moments inside where she was alone. I have to ask, and stop me if I offend, did anyone ever think that perhaps…she had feelings as well?"

"You make it sound like we bullied her."

"No, no that's not my intent. I'm just wondering why no one in an entire generation, felt the need to simply get to know her."

"Because…well, we all played together as kids, really. All the vault-kids played together. We formed clicks and groups at a really small age. Dez was never allowed to join in. I remember my dad taking me away, when Dez would come over to play with me and Susie Mack. He'd send us over to Susie's apartment, or in the dining hall. It just carried over into our young adult years, I guess."

"I suppose I'm just trying to understand is all. Dez is a long way, from being this mature and hardened person you're so wrongly describing. Hardened, she is like everyone else out here. But aside from that she's still the soft-spoken and scared girl she used to be. Knowing someone else's viewpoint, I am hoping, will help me better understand and better help when things inside of her head go wry."

I shake my head, scared that I've offended Charon.

"No, no I didn't mean to pass judgment on Dez or anything. I guess, what I meant to say is that…looking at her when I first came out, when she was watching over the Capital Wasteland like you all were…I can't say exactly but…Dez seemed to just _fit_. Like this is her land, her home, and she's the guardian of it. That sounds stupid, huh?"

Without answering me, Charon stands up to stretch and yawn. I watch him closely, still not believing that this man was once a human like me or Boone. As he lifts his arms into the air, though, I really sort of see him, and I really find myself blushing. His black shirt, it's really right on the chest. It shows define lines of a broad chest and brag-worthy muscles. Loose around the waist, it leaves to the imagination what else lies beneath it, after you've gotten a glimpse of what lies above. Perfectly-toned biceps, define and accentuate his arms. It shows strength, security, something that most men seem to lack. Looking past his veins, his showing muscles, I wonder how often Dezbe has sought comfort and protection, within and against those arms. I have yet, to see what happens when the battle isn't playful, but serious. Yet to see, that if he stands in front of her, or pulls her into him, rather having her close than risk her being hurt. That broad and strong chest, I think, can be one of the most secure places on a bodyguard's body. I don't think, that Dezbe doesn't know this, either. I fear, too, that I just may feel…jealous.

"How…do you stay so in-shape?"

I blurt out as Charon sits back down. He stares into the fire, smoking, his broad jaw flexing.

"Living and traveling with Dez, is mentally and physically challenging. My armor is also slightly weighted, as well."

"Not many, if any, vault boys can look like that. No matter how much they use the weight room."  
Charon looks at his hands. He wears leather, fingerless gloves. Does he ever take them off?

"What I 'have' is what I worked for, for my entire life. Its what is required for my profession."

"So…so you trained and worked to become a mercenary?"

"Yes."

"Why? I mean, is it a high-paying job?"

"No. I have never received payment for my services, nor was I allowed to expect any. In the ways of training, I did so because I had no other choice."

Wait, wasn't there a contract they talked about earlier or something?

"Didn't Dez or you say something about a contract?"

"Yes."

"It's not here anymore, right?"

"Right."

So, he stays with Dez even though he gets no payment for it, and even though there's no work contract between them. I don't understand. Why does he stay?

"But, but then if there's no contract, and no reason, why stay? Why not use your services on someone else?"

Before Charon can answer me, we're both distracted by Dez. She's moaning in her sleep, like she's crying. Her arms move around, as if she's looking for something. When she realizes, nothings there whatever it may be, she sits up. Her eyes are small, hardly open, and her face is loose with sleep.

"Charon…"

She calls his name. A voice emits from her, that should belong to a vault-child looking for their parent, after being lost somewhere down in maintenance. It's soft, delicate, and longing. The lines of professionalism and business are crossed, blurred rather, in front of me as I watch. Carefully, as Dez's eyes water with a tired sadness, Charon reaches out to her. His hands touch her cheek, and she looks at him. The second her eyes meet him, he opens his arms, as if in offering. Dez falls on his lap, as Charon wraps her up in himself.

"I…it was…a bad dream…"

I've never seen someone, who has such an imposing size and girth like Charon, treat anything with such delicacy. He looks at her, his eyes a white shade, his face soft like he's cradling his own, small and breakable child.

"It was a dream. Go back to sleep."

"…okay…"

Without anything more than that, with her bodyguard gently stroking her brow, Dez closes her eyes and falls instantly to sleep. I'm entranced by this, moved maybe even. In a fluid, comfortable motion, Charon lays down with Dez. He covers her body with his, cradling her and protecting her from any dangers forthcoming. They'd have to wake him, have to move him, if they even wanted to see Dez. If anything, wanted to harm her, I have no doubt, they'd be forced to wake Charon first.

"It was nice speaking with you, Amata."

Charon says to me, hardly above a whisper so he doesn't wake Dez. Putting his head down, I watch as he presses his forehead to Dez's and closes his eyes. I'm sad, inside, and a bit angry with some envy and slight jealousy. Laying down, I stare up at the sky, littered with stars billions of billions of miles away. Dez, it seems, has gotten the lucky end of the deal.

She left the vault a wanted criminal, came back a murder, killing my own father. I had no clue, no inkling, to what it was like on the outside, but I knew that the Dez I had known in the vault, was long gone when she showed her face again. I thought less of her, then. Less of her when she mercilessly killed my father. It made me think, of what kind of person can do that. What kind of person, can simply leave and come back, so changed. I wondered day and night, if there were more. More people she killed, more that she robbed and stole from. I was angry at her, for a long time.

Now…I'm even angrier. Angry that…that here with all the horrors and bloodshed that litters this land, or as far as I can tell, Dez has found something special. Maybe all bodyguards are this close, devoting themselves completely to their employers, I don't know. What I do know, is that Dez has done nothing deserving of it. Nothing, that could somehow justify giving her the deep, close companionship she shares with this man. People, me, search forever in the vault, trying to find that connection. It isn't there, though. Not there, so you settle for someone mundane, someone who just fits the social norms and lives life quietly beside you. And yet…yet this murdering, vile person that Dez has become, is granted with something that special, to all women, and perhaps some men. I don't understand it.

Then again, I don't understand much out here. There's a lot I question, a lot I don't want to accept, and more that I don't know. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt. Want to say, that maybe Dez _does_ deserve Charon by her side. Something I can somehow, strangely, understand though, is how Dez looks past his image. His…bare muscles and veins, lack of nose, lack of lips, even. Her comfort with him, is based solely on how he acts with her. To the dreams of a vault girl, having someone like that is quite the fantasy. Someone to hold and cradle you, yet fight to near death if it means saving your life. Someone who stands by you, accepting your faults and taking the good only with the bad. There was no one ever like that in the vault, believe me I have looked. Yet out here, out here there seems to be. And it seems, that Dezbe was able to find it.

Envious, jealous, angry, I turn my back on the fire. I would give everything, to have someone care for me just a fraction, of how Charon cares for her. It isn't fair. Dez was an outcast, someone no one particularly liked in the vault, so why does she get to be given a gift? What has she done, that made him so devoted that it blurs what lines there should and should not be? Has she saved a town? Rescued a newborn from a fire? Saved the world from complete annihilation? No, no I really don't think any of those are realistic adventures she's had. Instead it seems like she's just gone around fighting and shooting up places. Making this world her playground and the people in it mere puppets at her disposal. I can tell, that tonight, I won't be getting much sleep.


	46. Made the Same Mistakes

(Charon)

Laying here, I can tell that Amata is not asleep. Her eyes watch me, watch Dez and I, as we lay in the stillness. Behind my closed eyes, I see the light of the flames of the fire. She's peculiar, Amata. I think, that maybe there is a deep and long resentment, held silently between her and Dez. Why I don't know, and I really don't care for it. It's not my place and I'll be sure to inform the both of them that, if they start bickering like two teenage harlots.

Still, hearing another person's viewpoint on Dez's past, does put light on some areas. Like how Dez truly was alone. No friends, shunned quietly by a past that she had no control over, and kept in the dark about nearly everything. Her outburst earlier, didn't surprise me. I feel horribly, over what I did to her, and knowing she's now so scared and still not well from the Butch incident, puts more shame and guilt into me than before. I should have known this. Should have picked up on her insecurities. Why else, would someone be so angry and negative towards the world? Not that every angry and negative person is insecure, simply that in Dez's case, she is.

When Amata was explaining the past they shared, I couldn't help but feel as if she was playing victim. Blaming Dez for something, so that she could possibly justify how she treated her. There is no excuse, if you ask me. Dez although quirky and temperamental, had nothing to do with her father's actions or that of the adults in the vault. It still shocks me, that not one person decided to go against their parents and step out of the box. I thought that's what teenage rebellion was all about. Butch, is the one exception. From what I've heard about him from both Amata and Dez, though, he seemed to only be using her. Dez has gone her entire life, with people using her. I understand now, why she's so hateful towards others. Most people, her entire life, have only wanted her for personal gain. Not for het value as a person.

Pressing my forehead against hers, I take in the smell she always carries with her. It's sweet, and bitter all at once. An attractive scent, at least to me, that makes me remember why she's here beside me. I mean a lot to her, and that's not bragging its just the simple deep realization of it all. I grew to love this girl before me, and to her, that's something new. Someone loves her, and she's never been presented with it. I know now, my role is more important than ever. Letting her down again, is simply not an option.

Opening my eyes the next morning, I almost jump back in surprise. What I see when I open them, is Dez staring down at me, her head shadowed behind the orange and pink colors of the rising sun.

"Hey. Wake up."

She says, still staring at me.

"I am."

Giving me a quick smirk, Dez moves away so that I can sit up. Looking over, the fire has become nothing more than a smoldering ash pile, and Amata and Boone snore. Dez makes a noise beside me, and I look at her.

"Why are you up so early? Usually I'm waking you."

"Yeah well, I'm up."

She yawns and stands up, stretching and warming her bones. It's still chilly out, the sun isn't yet over the horizon enough to provide sufficient heat. I stand beside her, mimicking her stretching.

"We have a long walk. One really, really long walk. More fun, though. I'm sure we'll run into some Raiders or do-gooders to fight."

Dez says as she toys with her Pip-Boy. Bending down, I grab my armor and slide it over my head. The weight of it fits comfortably on my shoulders and chest. Last night, Amata said some things that I found a bit odd. I could ask Dez about them, but I know she'll take it to an extreme. The last thing I want so early, is another repeat of last night. Somehow I have to work on her temper with her. Explaining to her that there are better, more efficient ways to get a point across, than screaming and crying. But I figure that's all she knows and it's not going to change anytime soon. Least it gives me a couple of good laughs the next day.

"Hey Charon?"

"Hm?"

I'm busy strapping my armor and shoulder plate in their proper places when she asks.

"Where can we get eggs?"

"Eggs?"

Lifting my gaze from my armor, I stare at her. She's still messing with that Pip-Boy.

"Yeah. Eggs."

"Why the hell do you want eggs?"

"Because I like the taste of eggs. I want some. We had them for a little bit in the vault when I was a kid. Then the thing that laid them died. What lays eggs?"

"A chicken."

"Yeah, it died and we had no more eggs. There aren't chickens anywhere, are there?"

"No…not that I know of."

One thing I don't want to change is her tidbits of random and comical questions. Sometimes, the sarcasm and snide takes a backseat, and she becomes quite humorous. As well as confusing.

"What about Deathclaws?"

"Dez, you're not going to find a Deathclaw nest and raid it, simply because you want to eat an egg."

"Why not? We have two other people. Use them as bait. Then I'm happy, you're happy, and I won't want eggs anymore."

"No."

She shrugs in response and I go back to my tinkering with my armor. When I'm done, I sigh and reach down for my gun. Putting it on my back, I grab and close the pack I brought with me.

"Amata and I talked last night."

The second the words come out of my mouth, Dez has lost interest in her Pip-Boy and is giving me the look of death.

"What? When?"

She lets her arms fall down to her sides, and tenses up. It's almost like she's preparing to go into a battle royal with me.

"You woke me up last night, and then Amata woke up. We talked for a bit. About you."

"What _about_ me?"

"Nothing. She shared her view on how you were in the vault."

"Oh. Well that's not bad."

The subject is dropped and I decide to just let her think that's all we talked about. It is, in a sense. Other than Amata having no idea of the true relationship Dez and I have. Maybe it would be better if we clarified it for her somehow? At least then, she wouldn't be blatantly staring at me and asking questions about my build that I'm not sure if I'm comfortable answering. Dez was right about all of this, anyways. It wasn't a good idea to let Amata tag along.

"Hey, we're a little bit past Vault 106, so I think we might make it to this place tonight actually. That's pretty cool, I thought we'd be further away."

She's back to tinkering with her Pip-Boy, and I feel a shudder go down my spine. It's simply from the change in temperature, and the warm breeze that hit me.

"When should we wake the others?"

"Do we _have_ to?"

I smile at her disdain to traveling with a party, rather than it being just us two. It reminds me of older times.

"I don't think Boone is prepared to take on Amata by himself."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Maybe tomorrow we can leave them there."

Leaning over I kiss her cheek. She smiles at me, the scars on her face becoming almost invisible. I wish she'd smile more, it does make everything a bit easier.

"Hey, you know what I'd find fun?"

"What?"

"Dressing up in those nifty suits the people at Tenpenny used to wear before Roy went all apeshit on them. We could be, you know, _suave_."

"I doubt they offer much protection."

"But we'd look suave."

"That's a word I'm going to hear often now, isn't it?"

"…_Suave_…"

Sighing, I shake my head as Dez goes to wake Boone and Amata. For one thing, since the Deathclaw incident she's been a bit perkier. Perhaps she realizes how easy her life can be taken from her, and wants to stop and enjoy it. There's not much of an issue with that, because so long as she's happy, the world is happy. Dez is hardly the type to start doing good deeds and holding hands with everyone she sees, but small things like repeating words she likes and getting excited over finding a full bottle of whiskey won't be overlooked anymore.

"Wake up! Wake up! Time's a wastin'!"

She stomps her legs and hollers at Amata and Boone. Amata jumps up, and looks around while Boone simply sits up yawning. You can tell, who the amateur is in this situation. For a minute, it seems like Amata forgets where she is, and looks around like a lost puppy. When she finally remember, her face turns calm. She looks at me, and I feel uncomfortable, and look away.

"Why'd you have to scream like that, Dez? You couldn't have just woken me up like a _normal_ person?"

"Nope. Come on, let's get moving. We're wasting daylight."

"There's hardly daylight to waste."

Boone pipes in, a valid point there. But they're going to have to adapt to the 'get up and go' routine that Dez and I have. Once we're awake, we go, and there's no room for argument. Coming back to my side, Dez takes my hand and stands on her tip-toes to reach my ear.

"Ten caps says Boone plows Amata before we get to the city."

"Fair game."

A quick kiss on my cheek, tells me that the bet is made. It'll at least keep things interesting when bouts of silence fall on us and all we're doing is walking. A deep cry from the distance somewhere, causes Dez to drop my hand and look around. Everyone looks around, and I scan the horizon.

"What's that?"

Fear drips from Amata's voice, and I shift my gaze to her.

"We have to move. Deathclaws are in the area."

"What's a Deathclaw?"

Boone, Dez and myself are already beginning to swiftly walk away from Amata. She catches up in a couple of strides, and waits for someone to answer her.

"It's a giant thing that fucked up my voice. Left me with this."

Dez walks backwards, lifting a bit of her top to show Amata the ruined skin and exposed muscle on her body. Amata's eyes widen with fear.

"…Is that…is that _muscle_?"

"You bet. I nearly made it out with my life. It was quite dramatic."

"It was only that way because you did it to yourself."

I remind her, and an old, mischievous glint forms in her eyes. I have missed that glint, it's been five years since I've seen it.

"I only did it because _you_ drove me abso-lutely insane."

"I'd be nothing but a torso if I pulled stunts every time you drove me insane, Dez."

"And I'd be dead if you weren't there to stop me from pulling my stunts now wouldn't I?"

She smirks at me. I'm taken aback by her response. Is Dez changing? Is she finally maturing in a way that she wasn't able to upon leaving the vault? Perhaps it is not maturity, but rather appreciation. All that matters to me, is she's learning, and becoming much more lighthearted. Although together we're not too easy-going, but some instances it's alright.

"Yeah, you would be."

Amata runs up beside Dez, leaving Boone to take up the back on his own.

"I'm a bit lost in this conversation, want to inform me?"

Amata says, and Dez gives her a stern look. The girl I was just joking with is gone, and now replaced by her more violent, and angry side. So long as she keeps the two parts of her in check, we just might not have to deal with half as much as we have in the past. It would make me sleep easier at night, anyways.

"Nope."

"How'd you get that scar for real? Did you really do it on your own?"

"No, a Deathclaw did it. I just didn't fight him off."

"What? Why would you do that?"

"Amata, just…shut up. You're bugging me and it's too early."

Another Deathclaw cry causes me to take my gun from my back. I feel Dez brush against my side, and another person rub against my back. Turning my head, I see Amata. There's no time for me to ask her, what it is she's doing with her body pressed against me, and no time for Dez to make it into a violent confrontation before Boone announces what we all fear.

"One Deathclaw, eleven o' clock."

Instantly I turn my head to the left, while Amata is left confused as Dez pulls out her gun. Boone is looking through his scope, and all of us have a slight feeling of dread.

"Dez, do you have any grenades?"

I ask, pumping my shotgun.

"Nope, just my sawed-off."

It slips my mind that Dez is often quite underprepared for life in the Wastes. Though use to it, she doesn't quite think much through. The Deathclaw comes into my view, and I ready my weapon. Boone crouches down for a better shot.

"Wait! Maybe, maybe it hasn't…hasn't seen us!"

Amata's scared, and in denial. Worrying about her will distract everyone in the party. I look down to see she hasn't even pulled her gun out.

"Amata, get your fucking gun off your fucking waist and shut your fucking mouth."

I couldn't have said that better myself. Amata listens to Dez, and her hands shake. An annoyed groan escapes Dez's lips and I become annoyed.

"The two of you, stop. We have more pressing matters on our hands."

"It's coming closer."

Boone says, and takes a shot. The Deathclaw is reeled back a bit, by the force of Boone's bullet making contact. Leaning forward, it utters another cry before charging at full speed.

"_Move_!"

We scatter, or rather, Dez and Boone scatter. Something gets in the way of my foot, and I'm propelled to the ground, my weapon bouncing a few feet away. Quickly, I look over to see Amata on the ground beside me, shaking with fear. Her feet, got in the way of mine, and this is bad news for everyone involved.

"_Get up_!"

Dez calls as she turns around and runs _at_ the Deathclaw. It would have come right at me, had she not taken it upon herself to distract it. I watch in fear, as I reach for my gun, as the Deathclaw takes a swipe but misses Dez. Later, I'll deal with Amata's unruliness. Right now, all I can think of is crippling if not killing, the Deathclaw. Rising to my feet, I take a shot as I take careful and calculated steps closer. Boone is now taking shot after shot, riddling it will small, bleeding holes. His Hunting Rifle won't kill it, but it will distract it.

Snapping another drum into place quickly, I hear Dez's gun take a few well-timed shots at the Deathclaw. It screeches at her, as she runs behind. Her mind isn't paying attention, but Boone and I are. We react together, running forward to distract it from kicking Dez. It works, and she's only caught by its long tail, falling into the dirt. It's still took close for my comfort, and I hit it in the head with a spray of bullets. During all of this madness, I wonder where Amata is.

Quickly looking back as I cock my gun, I see her, her pistol in her hand, her eyes wide with fear. I know what I have to do, and what is right to do.  
"Shit."

I say to myself, Boone taking his time reloading his weapon as Dez runs at me. The look on her face tells me something is wrong.

"Ammo! I need ammo!"

"Where's yours?"

"I _dropped_ it when I fell!"

I have nothing to offer her, but instead of wasting time arguing, Dez runs past me. She rips Amata's pistol from her hand, and I turn in time to dodge a swipe from the Deathclaw.

"Give that back!"

I hear Amata cry, and Boone and I cannot believe what is taking place in front of us. As the Deathclaw charges at both Dez and Amata, Amata puts up a fight, not wanting Dez to take her only weapon.

"You've got to be _fucking_ kidding me."

It's all I hear Boone say before we take off. He can't fire his weapon and run, apparently, so I take that upon myself. Shot after shot blasts from the barrel of my shotgun, and I take in stride the heat and recoil that's wearing on my body. But my training soon kicks in, reminding me, forcing me to remember, and I soon feel nothing of the pain. Nothing, as my mind is set on my objective, and keeping the person of interest safe.

Just before Dez and Amata are hit with the hand of the Deathclaw, I fire a last, desperate shot. Hitting it in the back of the head, time stands still for it. Letting out one last cry, it falls to its death, the claw hitting the back of Amata's head lightly. The head of the Deathclaw rests at the tip of Dez's boot, showing how close the two of them were to severe injury on Dez's part, and death in Amata's case. I would not hesitate, to let Amata die, to save Dez.

Putting my gun on my back, I jog over as Dez steps over the Deathclaw, wry that it might still be alive.

"Holy shit that was close."

She expects me to stand beside her, and continue on with the walking. She's surprised when I push past her, feeling my anger. Reaching Amata, I snatch the weapon from her hands, more forceful than Dez could. To her, this is of no use.

"Are you _fucking stupid_?"

Amata stares at me, wide-eyes, more terrified than she's ever been in her entire life.

"I-I-I needed t-t-the weapon…"

"No you did not! You did not need to create that distraction! You put _everyone_ in danger! Moreover, you put Dez in danger! If you're not using a weapon, hand it over to someone _else_!"

She's scared and no one comes to her defense. Everyone shares the same stance on the subject as I do. Nearly getting someone killed because you think you need it for your own good is not how this is going to work. If Amata wants to travel with us, she has to learn to stand on her own.

"Wipe that look off your face and come on. We have no more time to waste."

With that I leave her, the pistol firmly in my hand. Upon reaching Dez, I hand it to her. She takes it and puts it on her hip. Together, Boone, Dez and I walk in silence, while Amata sniffles behind. Amata truly is insolent. I'm sure, not even Dez on her first time in the Wasteland would have done something so incredibly stupid. Looking down at Dez, I realize I've forgotten to make sure she's alright. She did take a nasty-looking tumble.

"Are you alright? I saw you fall?"

Dez lifts up her arms, staring at the backside of her forearms. There's scratches and scrapes, nothing too major or anything to worry about.

"Got banged up but, it's no big deal."

"Just making sure."

Dropping her arms, Dez lights a cigarette. I'm still not use to her new husky voice. The Deathclaw that tore her up the other night must have really ht her good. When I saw her, that night…I didn't know what to do. The only reason I knew she was out there, was because I was still in the puddle. I was busy, working on speeding up my ghoulification and tearing away long strips of flesh. It was late, and the lights were out in Megaton, but that made it easier to see. Easier to spot, the familiar light her Pip-Boy emits. That's the only reason I knew it was her.

From past experience I also knew, that when she wandered alone like that, it was never for anything good. So I followed her. It took me a bit, to find my gun in the dark and get myself worked up enough to go after her. I didn't know how to face her. By the time I did slip through the Megaton gates, Dez was yards and yards away, sitting. Just, simply sitting. I didn't notice or hear the Deathclaws against the strong wind in my ears, so I didn't really feel the need to follow her much more. But I stayed, I stayed and watched.

I saw the Deathclaw too late, too. By the time my eyes and mind realized what was happening, Dez was being launched into the air like a ragdoll. She looked like one, too, I don't think I'll ever forget it. Her limbs limp in the air, her head facing downward. I thought for sure, if the strike of the Deathclaw didn't kill her, than the fall surely would.

Only after did I chase it away, did I have time to look at her. Her wounds…I shudder at the remembrance of them. It was like…like I was looking at nothing more than a sea of blood. It was everywhere, pooling around her body, making mud beneath her. Crimson. That's how much, there was, that it was simply crimson red. Bright, against the moon. I truly did think she was dead. There wasn't a doubt in my mind, that she wasn't. Only because I thought it was impossible for someone to bleed so much, and yet still survive. She proved me wrong.

I went to touch her thigh, and when my fingers grazed it just barely, her finger twitched. I don't think she realized it, or does even know, that the small movement saved her life. To be honest, I don't even believe she wanted to be saved. It was a task, picking her up. Mainly because there was so much blood and I was scared at how deep the slices ran. I didn't want something falling out, that should remain inside. But I did it, I did it, and carefully ran her back to the only radiation I could think of. I never want to see her that way again. Never want to see her blood like that, never want to have to be terrified if she'll live or die.

Looking down at her, I try to imagine what things would be like, had she died or had I not seen her. I can't. I simply can't, without being filled with a strong sense of regret and sadness. Regret for what I did, to cause her to do that, and sadness at the thought of losing her. She walks, eyes set downward looking at her shoes, and she's as she was so many years ago. As if none of what happened bothers her. I know it does though. I know, for a fact, all that I've done hurts her. Dez simply, isn't the type to show it, outside of anger. She's simply…containing it. For when, until when, I don't know. I only hope she can talk about it with me, before it's too late.


	47. It's My Revenge

(Boone)

I haven't said much these days, because there is nothing for me to say. Ain't nothing, worth talking about. Mindless shit spewing from the ghoul, from Amata, it ain't worth my goddamned time. I sure as hell, don't care for their petty feelings or bickering. I have a job to do, a job I remember, unlike most people. I'm not sure what angers me more now, the fact that Dez forgave that poor excuse for a mercenary, or that he's forgetting what's important in his life. I saw what happened. I watched Dez run _after_ the Deathclaw while he _stayed_ behind to make sure Amata was alright. I saw it, and I'll point it out to him first chance I get.

Don't know really, what happened between Amata and the ghoul to make her more prone to get closer to him. Probably something they talked about after me and Dez fell asleep. Leave it to him, to sneak behind like that. As if he hasn't done enough damage already. As if Dez hasn't just recovered from one of the worst injuries I've seen since Bitter Springs, because of his sneaking around. A woman like her…shit. They don't come around often.

When I saw her down in that Muddy Rudder piece of shit bar, I knew I had to talk to her. And damn, I'm not one to just talk to people. She's that kind of person, though. The kind that without doing a thing can break you out of your shell. That's what happened with me, anyways. Not a talker, not a follower, not really one for company. But I wanted to speak with her, talk with her, follow her and be in her company. Can't tell you what yet, that makes this girl so different. Maybe it was the three diagonal scars across her face that made me want to offer to buy her a drink. Maybe it was the way she was toying with the glass in her hand, or how her back curved as she leaned over the bar. I don't know, maybe it was all those things. It made me forget Carla, that's all I do know.

Forget probably isn't the right word. She just made the pain of losing Carla, go away. I was able to talk with her that one night we were alone, and it felt good. Made me realize I wanted to keep her around longer. Realize that maybe I was meant to meet her. Didn't know it then, don't want to admit it now, but maybe she's really something special. I meant it, too, when I said she could come with me back to the Mojave. I felt happy, when that ghoul admitted his betrayal to her. It meant then I could stay with her longer. Even though she was hurting, and that pissed me off, I was happy.

I want to bring her to New Vegas again. There's more work than ever now, offered over there and the NCR would kill to have me back. I'd make a decent living for us, and set her up in a nice home. Not a shambled old shack like she's expecting to get with this ghoul fellow, no something good. Something maybe by the strip, or in an old ghost town. A house, an actual fucking house. Something better than Novac, too. Fact of the matter is I could do it, and I want to do it, it's just I have to get her away from that fuckin' rotten ghoul.

Amata is supposed to be the person to do that, too. She's supposed to be the one to get this ghoul away. The second I found out Dez was from a vault, I knew instantly why she was so attracted to the ghoul. Because simply, he's different. He's someone her daddy wouldn't be proud of, and something of a bad-boy complex. The kind of complexes teenage girls go through. Lo and behold we return to the vault and another vault-girl wants to come with us. If I have any luck, that complex will be shared by her. Figure Charon or whatever his name is, won't have any idea what to do about it. Worst to worse, he'll tell Dez that Amata is pushing on him, and Dez will instantly think that he's done something to want it. Or something wrong. She'll get upset, and that's where I come in.

I don't see it as 'taking advantage' or 'manipulating' I see it as simply pulling the strings to work in my favor. There's no doubt in my mind, that I can do better for her than what the ghoul's doing. Dez just can't see that because she's so use to him. When she's sad, angry and hurt over things between Amata and him, I'll come in for comfort. Tell her he's not worth it, and that I'll take her away to make it all better. She'll believe me, too. From what I can tell, when she's emotional, she's utterly vulnerable. She'll believe anything anyone says, so long as there's tears in her eyes. I'll use that to my advantage and by this time next year, she'll be saying 'What ghoul?'.

Staying under the radar until then is the hard part. Shit when she took off the other night I nearly went off after her. I knew if I had the ghoul would _know_ I was planning something and make Dez make me leave. We already had a confrontation before, the ghoul and I, in Megaton. We were gathering supplies down at the clinic, and he pulled me aside. Told me, very cautiously that he wanted me to stay away from Dez. I told him it takes more than what he's got, to order me around. Surprisingly, he kept his ground. Said that the NCR didn't matter out here, and he didn't give two fucks what I did back there or who I thought I was. Just to stay away from Dezbe. Already, I can tell, he feels threatened by my presence just as Dez feels threatened by Amata's presence. My bullshit reason for having her come along was just that, bullshit.

So long as the two of them are on edge with internal battles, I'll be able to create a wedge. If things in a night can change between Charon and Amata, than I wonder how quickly things can change between Dez and I? I have to go about this very, very carefully, as Dez is quick, and smart. I can't have her picking up on things before everything is in the right order. If so, she'll make me leave on her own, and be stuck with the two-bit, good-for-nothing, sorry excuse for a merc she has after her. Ain't gonna let a woman like that, take off with something of lesser value. I can honestly say that much.


	48. Home is Where the Heart Is

(Dez)

Oh my god, it exists! It does and thank the heavens we found it! Up a hill, North of Everglow, is the Sniper Shack. At least, that's what it says on the front door anyways. It doesn't show up on my map, which is more than perfect, and it's _huge_. There's a bed, a table, and junk. Not that I need the junk but the bed…the bed is queen and oh, oh I'm so happy.

"Mine!"

I say jumping on the bed as the sun begins to set and dusk turns to night. We've all been walking, in silence might I add, all day. Tired, hungry, exhausted, I'm so pleased Gob wasn't bullshitting. Pressing my face into the old mattress, I breathe out into it.

"This will do."

Charon says behind me. Lifting my head, I look at Amata and Boone. Amata has a look of pure disgust on her face, while Boone can't really care about much of anything. I guess they don't realize, how much this means to me. To have a place, unmarked on maps, to call my own. A place, where Charon and I can live and walk around and return to as we please, with no one barging in and no one coming around to talk to us. This…this is better than Rockopolis even, and you can't get much cooler or badass than a cave.

What's even greater, is that when you stand in the doorway, you can see the entire Capital Wasteland below you. This shit is awesome. Rolling on my back, I sigh and open my eyes, stretching out my arms.

"Home."

"You're seriously going to live _here_?"

Amata still has yet to learn about the Capital Wasteland and finding something like this and how rare it is. Sitting up, I stare at her while Charon busily examines every nook and cranny in this place.

"What else would I do? Burn it?"

"It's…_filthy_!"

"Welcome to the world, Princess."

She scowls at me and I light a cigarette. Boone leans against a far wall, head back.

"What do we do now?"

He asks, and I shrug. For right now, at least one night, I don't want to worry. I have my Charon back and just, just let me thing it's all going to be okay. I know…I know that soon we'll have to leave here and get back to the Brotherhood. That eventually in the near future, we're going to be in a war between us and them. To be honest, I don't want to, but I owe Bigsley. He returned Charon to me. If it wasn't for him, Charon would still be laying there, silently suffering alone in the Wastes. I can't let him suffer, for doing what's right. Nor…nor can I let the Brotherhood take over and control my home. It's not much, it's dirty and ridden with crime, but it's my home.

Boone, the night we talked, told me that in parts of California there's laws and a governing system. That's what the Brotherhood is trying to do here. Boone said it's not going over well with the locals, and that branch of the NCR is thinking of taking the rules away completely. The Brotherhood, won't take those rules away. I know them, I know how they'll act. They'll sell it to everyone just like they sold me as a bad idea. Everyone will accept it, and then by the time they realize what's been done, it'll be too late. War might break out between the Brotherhood and civilians, and then the Capital Wasteland won't be anything. Not that it is now, but still.

What's also really fucked is that the is no more Brotherhood out in New Vegas. I mean they're there, or were, but they all hid in bunkers and came here. Like, they couldn't take that Wasteland, so they're going to try for ours. For mine. Amata doesn't see it yet, and won't for a while unless she dies but…this is all I have. I was born here, like everyone else, and I'm tied to it. If Boone and I did run away to New Vegas like he said, I'd come back. I'm too close, to this land, to it's own creatures and it's familiar places. I'm comfortable here and I know it well. That's all. It's my home, and you always go back home at one point or another. And…and I can't let my home be taken over and ruined by people, who don't even know the truth and can't tell their followers the truth. I bet, I bet if half their Knights and Initiates and Scribes listened to me and learned like Bigsley did, it'd be their higher-ups they'd be after, not me. Not me at all.

"Where do you even eat in here?"

Amata asks, dropping a not-so-subtle hint that she's hungry. Boone kicks off of the wall, and looks my way.

"Care to help me find something to eat?"

Shrugging, I stand up on my wry feet.

"Sure. Charon I'll be back. Wanna make the fire?"

Charon turns around, looking at me. He glances at Boone, and gives him an angry look. But, then he silently nods and the four of us head out. Amata, as I expected, stays behind while Boone and I walk down the hill to find a Molerat or Yao Guai. Checking the pistol, I make sure it's loaded. It is.

"Hey Boone, what's been up with you? You got all quiet on me all of a sudden."

I pry, as I take long strides downhill to keep up with his long strides downhill.

"I didn't mean to. Just don't like the company we keep."

"What? You mean Charon and Amata? Hey look you opted for Amata to come and she's here because of you so that's your fault."

"Not Amata, just Charon."

Getting to the base of the hill, I stare at Boone.

"What's wrong with Charon?"

"Nothing, if you don't mind unfaithful men who use and manipulate others."

"Look, what happened between him and I is just that, between him and I."

Boone sighs as he pulls the gun off of his back.

"If that's how you want it, you wouldn't have gone out looking for a Deathclaw that night."

Biting my lip, I walk ahead of Boone. He soon catches up and when he does I'm ready.

"I don't know what I was looking for. Not a Deathclaw."

"Don't bullshit. You're too good for that. We all know, Dezbe, what you were looking for."

"Yeah well I'd expect someone like you to understand."

"Wanting to die because a loved one harmed you is no way understandable to me."

"After Carla I thought it would be."  
"Carla _never_ hurt me. She was _taken_."

I shrug. If we're making personal jabs, I'm not above playing along.

"If you have something to say about Charon, say it. Just don't let it get in the way of the bigger picture."

"Alright then I will. I think he's undeserving of your care and I think that he's only in it because a woman wouldn't go near him without skin."

"I just think, you're basing all of this on what you've seen. You weren't there, to see our relationship grow. If you were, you'd have a _much_ different opinion."

Boone looks through his scope, and for a minute I think we've found food and can head back up the hill. I'm wrong though, because he lowers his gun.

"Give me the short version, then."

Sighing, this is really the last thing I want to deal with right now. I just found a home, I'm hungry, and I want to sleep in a bed for a night before waking up tomorrow and making a plan of action. I wanted, to have fun and laugh and joke. I can see, that's pretty far from my reach right now.

"He's saved my life, in times where…where he really had no reason to. He's…he was there for me…when…I had no one."

"So you're with him because he was there and has saved your life? Life-saving isn't uncommon. It happens a lot out here, in case you haven't noticed, Dez."

"No, I'm with him because I love him. Because I feel for him, what at one point you felt for Carla."

"Carla never lied and deceived me or laid with another man."

"For all you know."

He turns around and looks at me. I can tell behind his glasses, he's glaring. I have the power right now, and I fold my arms across my chest, smirking.

"After all, you worked the night shift, right? You said Carla was beautiful, like she was from another time? What makes you think, that she didn't slip away while you were working, and spend the night with someone else in the town? Nothing but your own trust. And I bet, I bet if she did and you found out, you'd take her back just like I took back Charon. Only reason you have for taking her back would be that you loved her. And, you know I'm right."

Boone's mouth twitches, I can tell I've pissed him off. Tell even more, he's holding back from lunging at me. His self-discipline can only go so far, and my words have to have some kind of action. I feel his fist, connect with my jaw and the force reels me back. I fall on my knees, and touch where he hit me. My jawbone aches, but I look up at him, still in control.

"Feel better?"

I spit out blood as I talk. Standing, I rub my cheek a bit more, displacing the pain in a way. Boone still has his fist ready to strike.

"Do it again, and I'll scream bloody hell. I mean, go ahead and do it, if you want to see Carla again."

"You are such an insatiable being, Dezbe."

"So I've been told."

Spitting out more blood, I stick my finger in my mouth. He got me somethin' good. Made me bite a nice hole in my cheek and everything. Boone's got a good hit, I'll give him that, but he's still no better than Charon. It'll take a lot, for anyone to measure up to him. Glaring at me, Boone unclenches his fist and picks up his gun. I can honestly say I've offended him, and need to remind him of something a bit important.

"You can leave whenever you want, Boone. No one's keeping you in this group but yourself."

He won't look at me, but he knows I'm right. He didn't _have_ to follow me from Megaton. Shit for all I care he could have ditched us and stayed in the vault. Maybe him and Amata could have made some freaky-deaky looking kids for all I give a shit.

"I'm going to see Charon now. Don't come back without food. Or at all. I really can't care."

"Leave them alone."

I turn around to look at Boone. He's staring through the scope of his gun, looking for something to kill and eat.

"What? Why?"

"Let them go to know one another. Amata is probably going to be with us for a while, she needs to learn how to act and get along. Charon's a good shot, let them get comfortable enough to have him teach her one day."

"This is all coming from the guy who just punched me in the face from anger. Did you forget that?"

"No. But you need me more than I need you."

"No I don't, so don't feel special. I've made it this far with little to no help."

Boone chuckles and looks back at me.

"Trust me, you will."

"If that isn't creepy, I don't know what is."

We don't say much of anything else, and stand in the same place. I hope something comes by soon, and let's us kill it. My stomach is empty and there's only so many cigarettes I can smoke in a small amount of time. Lighting my third one up, I glance over at Boone who isn't doing much else.

"We're horrible hunters."

I say, half-joking. If we don't get food and come back empty handed, I have this gut feeling Charon will think something is going down between me and Boone. It seems they're already at wits end with one another.

"There's not much to eat out here."

Boone just doesn't know the Capital Wasteland very well. Hearing something in the distance, I look over. Boone does the same, but just with his scope.

"Yao Guai."

"Alright, then shoot it."

I say pulling the pistol out. Boone fires and I turn my Pip-Boy light on so I can see it. I'm not scared around the animals here. They don't attack me and keep me well-fed, so it's a pretty good trade off. For me, anyways. Firing my weapon, and coupled with Boone's help, we're able to take down the Guai and have it dead at our feet. My stomach rumbles as I imagine it slow-cooking over the fire Charon's probably made by now.

"Let's go I'm hungry."

Grabbing the hind legs, I motion for Boone to get the front. What? You think I can carry this all alone? Yeah, that's funny. Almost as funny as the look Boone gets when he realizes he has to touch it.

"Just grab it it's dead."

"Exactly. I have this thing about dead beings."

"Shut up or I'll make you skin it instead of Charon."

Boone shudders and takes the front legs. Together, we navigate the steep, uphill climb back to my new home. You know, everything aside, I think this place will suit me and Charon just fine. When all is said and done, when I've lost my will to wander and roam, when the world is finally alright, to have something to call home, will be nice. After the Brotherhood is gone, after Charon and I clear our names, and after we ditch Amata and Boone, we can come back to this place. We can come, and make it our humble abode, and leave if we want. But it'll always be here. I'm sure Charon can fashion a lock or something, so that no one can take it away. We won't have to forever wander, or sleep outside. We can if we want, but for right now, we have a home. I don't think, that either one of us, has had many places to call that. Home.


	49. I Want to Know You

_Vault108's review has to be the most touching thing I have ever read. Thank you very much, I'm so happy you still read, and even happier that everything is brighter for you. I promise I won't let you down with Charon and Dezbe. And if you are let down, I will personally kick myself in the ass a few times, for shits and giggles._

* * *

(Amata)

I really…I didn't…I messed up and I don't know how to tell everyone how sorry I am. But, but I panicked. That…that thing that, _Deathclaw_ it was so…so scary I didn't know what to do! I mean, I've never even imagined something like that, then the next thing I know it's charging at me and I just remember that Boone told me to never let go of my weapon.

I know, I know that I should have let Dez have it but…I was so scared. It hard horns and long, sharp claws and a jaw bigger than my head and…I feel so bad. Charon was right, I put everyone in danger and I had no reason to. If I just let go of the gun, it wouldn't have happened. He was so mad, in the short time I've known him I guess I didn't think he was capable of much emotion. The only time he ever showed any at all, was when he was caring for Dez. Even then, tending to her wound wasn't a big deal, and comforting her in her sleep didn't seem like it was, either. He was angry, though. Everyone was, or is, I can't tell anymore. I just know I feel bad, and wish there was some way to fix it.

Today…today was just horrible. After that incident, no one said anything to anyone. There were a few run-ins with what Dez called 'Regulator scum'. To be honest they weren't doing much of anything, and I don't think they would have really bothered us if Dez didn't run after them waving her pistol in the air. Figure it's something she does often, though, because Charon wasn't too far behind her. Me? I stayed behind. I don't have a weapon and didn't feel like fighting. After all, I let everyone down today.

But even after that, and after Dez was smiling and laughing and talking about it for a bit, we all just eventually got quiet again. We stayed quiet, too, until we got to this house. Which, I can't believe Dez is going to actually live in. I guess for a time I'm stuck in it too. Until I can learn how to live out here on my own, I'm sort of dependent on Dez. That's the exact reason she didn't want me to come, either. She knew it would be hard for me to adjust to life like this. I just simply don't know how to. Not only that but I still can't stomach it. What with the killing and the giant monsters from nowhere. This is all Dez's land, and I'm starting to feel the same way she felt in the vault. Alone, and isolated.

Watching Dez and Boone go down the hill, I still feel like I let them all down. They're going off to find food, Charon's taking down branches and wood to make a fire, and what am I doing? Standing here looking useless. I guess, I have to talk to him. Between you and me though, I sort of want to get to know this bring named Charon a bit better. Aside from his face, his body is pretty…well…amazing. I'm sure I can get past his face in time, though.

"So…so do you need any help?"

I ask, nervous and playing with my hands. Charon piles the wood into a small rock circle and shakes his head as he kneels down.

"No."

He flicks his lighter, letting the flame catch some thin pieces of wood. The small spark becomes a small flame, and Charon sits down across from me, on the other side. How do I go about this? Was Dez this nervous when meeting him, or getting to know him? He's just a person, but he looks like a dead person.

"So, what did you do before meeting Dez?"

"I was a bouncer in a bar."

I raise an eyebrow, leaning forward to hear more.

"What's that?"

"If people stepped out of line, I would throw them out."

"Seems dull and boring."

"It was."

Alright so we have some conversation going. Dez sure knows how to pick companions. I mean, I'm sure if she wasn't with Charon the entire day, everyone would just be quiet. At least she has someone to talk to, even when she's feeling down.

"Did you do anything aside from that? I mean, you must have done a lot, you're like, really old. You don't act really old, though. Or look it. You just kind of…well, act like Dez and I do."

"I don't feel like sharing my life with you, Amata."

Fair enough. I think, though, if I keep the conversation on Dez, or at least around her, he'll talk to me. In my own way, I think I can get him to you know, open up. I need a friend out here, it's too big and frightening to do this alone. Plus, I can feel Dez is going to kick me out of this circle relatively soon.

"You and Dez…must have seen a lot together. Did she know how to shoot a gun when she met you?"

He shrugs and lights a cigarette. Everyone smokes, except me.

"I taught her some things. She knew most of the basics, if not all, by the time we met."

"I guess she didn't really need you then, huh? I mean, that came out wrong. What I mean is, she probably didn't…didn't need much protecting. I mean, it was three months before she met you, right?"

"Yes."

"So then, why did she hire you? If she lived that long, out here with no one, then…"

"Dez needed someone to protect her. She was reckless, foolish, and lucky to have lived as long as she did without my aid."

"But she lived."

He sighs, blowing smoke out and watching as the fire grows.

"Amata, I feel you don't understand your friend very much."

"We're not really friends."

"Either way."

Taking my hair out of the bun I've always had it in, I let my long dark brown hair flow down my shoulders. It feels really nice, as I shake my head.

"Then tell me how to understand her."

"You can't. Even I don't yet know."

"And you've been with her, longer than anyone else, haven't you?"

Charon nods, inhaling some of his cigarette, and blowing it out again. The fire is big now, warm and inviting. I run my fingers through my thick hair and wonder how long it'll be before I can wash it.

"Then…then I guess that's good. Everyone…needs someone. Especially Dez. What do you get out of it, though? You seem to do a lot for her."

"I get enough. I have the benefits of sharing both good and bad times, the companionship, the fights and whatnot. Among other things."

"Other things?"

"Hm."

Not much of a talker, now is he? Looking down towards the hill, I wonder what's taking them so long. I'm hungry, and I know it's going to take longer for the food to cook. Glancing back at Charon, I catch him deep in thought. His eyes are focused on the fire, his expression content and his cigarette burns between his fingers.

"What are you thinking about?"

I ask him as I scratch my head. My vault suit during the day is hot and sticky, but at night, it keeps the cool breeze away. Wonder whatever happened to Dez's vault suit?

"The past. Moments with Dez that I find worth thinking of."

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I do."

"What are you remembering?"

"Nothing in particular. Private things."

Private?

"Like sex?"

I blurt it out and Charon narrows his eyes at me. I've angered him. Instead of saying sorry right away, I just close my mouth and look away. I don't mean, to keep offending people. I don't even know where that came from. After a few quiet minutes, with only the fire making noise, I let myself speak again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about that and earlier. I didn't mean to let everyone down this morning."

"It's fine. Don't let it happen again."

"You yelled at me."

"For just cause."

"It scared me."

Charon looks at me. For the first time today, his eyes meet mine. I notice, there's blue inside there. Blue, beneath the white film. He has blue eyes.

"I apologize if I frightened you."

"It's…it's okay."

He really means that. He looks at me, and he really does mean it. I don't know what this means, or what the feeling inside is, but it's nice. It's warm, and tender. Charon looks away and back at the fire. We're quiet now, and I think about what else I can say. I want him to look at me like that again.

"…Hey, Charon?"

"Yes?"

"What was it like, before the war?"

"Crowded."

Well, I suppose that's one way to define civilization. Another way entirely, to say that he doesn't want to talk about it. Okay, I don't mind that much. Looking at my hands, I give them a small smile. I wonder if they'll become laden with calluses like Dez's are, or cracked and broken like Charon's. Out here, I suppose, my entire body will turn that way. Rough and unpleasant. I can only imagine what Dez feels like, with all those scars.

"What do Dez's scars feel like?"

"Soft."

Soft? They're _soft_? I don't know what he means by that, but by giving me an answer I'm thinking that he's touched them before.

"How many does she have?"

"Her body is covered with them."

"You've seen them?"

He nods, throwing the rest of his cigarette into the fire. If he's seen them, then it means…

"Charon, you've seen her naked?"

Again, he nods and I'm shocked. Shocked because…because bodyguards shouldn't see their employers naked. That's not professional at all. Unless it's the norm out here and then in that case, I don't want one. Before I can ask any more, or anything for that matter, Dez and Boone appear at the top of the hill. They're carrying a carcass, and it's scary, even though I know it's dead.


	50. Wasteland Passion

(Dez)

"Look Charon, I brought food!"

I smile pretty and drop my share of the meat. Charon for a minute is pleased, until I meet him in the light of the fire. His eyes fall on my face, right where Boone hit me. He grabs my jaw, turning my head to see better.

"What happened?"

Quickly, I think of a lie and shrug it off, backing away from him.

"The Guai attacked me. Nothing major."

"That's not the truth, Dez."

I don't want to get Boone in trouble. I don't want Charon to chase away our help. I was thinking, about what Boone said, and I regret to inform you he's right. With NCR connections and training, Boone is needed in this mission. If anyone would know how to properly infiltrate wherever the Brotherhood are in a military manner, it's him. Telling Charon he hit me, would secure that Boone doesn't travel with us anymore. But…I think Charon already knows.

"It was an accident."

It's all I can say and the second the words come out, Charon's pushing past me. He slams Boone into the side of the house, hard, the walls shaking and echoing at the force of Boone's body.

"Charon, wait, stop!"

I grab his arms as his hands raise up to Boone's neck. Charon glares at me, as if to ask if I'm crazy. He should know by now, that I am.

"It was an accident, really. I provoked him. Look, please, don't."

"Why are you protecting him?"

Charon bellows, and I frown, crossing my arms.

"Because we _need_ him he has connections!"

"I don't care who he's connected to, it doesn't matter."

"Charon, just…just please…a night?"

"A night?"

"One night of fun, please?"

He lets Boone drop. He was holding him a foot in the air. Before I can say anything else, the familiar sound of a Vertibird echoes through everyone's ears. Filled with fear, I look at Charon.

"Uh-oh…"

Without thinking, I run into the house. I run in, and start rummaging through the junk. There's nothing here, nothing at all. Frustrated, I hear the Vertibird growing closer outside. I hear the loud noise, of Boone, Charon, and Amata scattering. Amata wouldn't know what the hell is going on, but everyone panicking would probably send her off into a frenzy. I have to get out there. I have…have to cause a distraction. I can't stay here, and let my friends get in trouble.

Checking the pistol, I notice I have one more clip left. Shit. Opening the door, I see as Boone keeps watch, while Charon tries to hurriedly put out the fire.

"Charon!"

I call, and he looks over. The Vertibird is much closer now, at the base of the mountain/hill the house is on. They don't know we're here, or else they would have landed closer. Dropping to the ground, I make myself as invisible to the Vertibird as I can. Everyone else, does the same. Charon has the fire out, my Pip-Boy light is off, and Amata's the only one not complying. What's worse, is the giant '101' on the back of her suit can be seen for miles, and miles, and miles. Oh, fuck.

Looking up, I see the Vertibird lifting into the air. It's dropped troops. I know it. You can't see much from the cockpit of that thing unless you're looking. I know they're not looking for me, but I know whoever they dropped, is. They've seen the '101', and they think it's me. Fuck you, Amata. Fuck you. Tonight was supposed to be a good night. It was supposed to be fun. I hate you, for not changing out of that suit.

"Up there!"

A Knight yells, I can hear him. Not long after, a frag grenade lands beside me. Scurrying, tripping over my own feet, I run and dive away from it. As soon as I hit the dirt, and feel Charon's body over mine, protecting me, it blows up. Amata screams in fear.

"_Shut up_!"

I yell, persistent and determined not to have her fuck this up. Clanking armor from the near distance tells me they're coming, and that they're coming fast. I don't know how many there are, or if they're talking to their base on their headsets. I just know I'm low on ammo, Amata has no weapon, soon I won't either, and Charon and Boone are just two men. Despite their training and backgrounds, they're still two men, against an unknown number.

Lifting off of me, Charon wastes no time in getting the gun off of his back. Amata backs away, as the Knights begin to run up the hill. Just two of them. I'm relieved, but not for long. Holding my pistol I open-fire. It won't do much, and one of them throws another grenade. It lands a far enough distance from Amata to be of no harm, but it scares her. I watch as it blows up, and she takes one too many steps backwards.

"Amata!"

I yell, worried about my vault comrade. Based on pure stupidity, I turn my back and start to run for her, past Charon who is blasting away at the oncoming Knights. I grab Amata and her weight is too much for me to handle. Looking down, I see tears streaming down her face. She kicks her feet, and it's throwing me off.

"Stop fucking kicking! Get a _grip_!"

I have her hand in the air, my back to the action. A sharp, burning pain rips through my backside. It catches me off guard, and I let go of her hand. I see, before I fall in pain, that she's at least able to grab a rock. She won't fall, as another bullet hits me. Whoever hit me, has great aim. It's right next to the first wound.

Knowing I have to get out of the line of fire, I let my better mind take over. Forcing my feet up, I move away. I raise my pistol, and let bullets spray out of it until it clicks back empty. Blood trickles down my back, another shot of pain, why me? Why am I always injured? I watch as one of the helmets gets knocked off, and Boone follows that up with a clear headshot. Dropping my pistol, I call for help.  
"Charon! Charon!"

I feel blood coming from my chest. Near my collarbone. It burns like the fires of hell. Or worse, I can't tell you which. It just hurts, and when the second Knight falls, Charon turns to me. He and Boone rush back to the upper ledge of the hill, and then…it all happens.

"Help me! Help me _please_!"

Amata's cries are carried all throughout the Capital Wasteland. They carry so far, they penetrate the instincts Charon has for me, for only me. I watch as angry, painful tears well in my eyes as he dives and reaches for Amata.

"I got you!"

He yells, and I fall on the ground. It hurts _so _bad right now I can't even begin to be angry at Charon. Boone comes to my side, worried.

"We're all hit it's alright."

He tells me, like that's supposed to make me feel better. I notice his armor is ripped, a bit of blood coming through. I'm fine, I'll live. Boone grabs a stimpack to use on me, but I knock it away.

"Radiation."

He nods and shoots the needle into his arm. Charon pulls Amata from her near-death and plants her on the ground. He wasn't there to save me this time. I would be _so_ mad at him, but right now, I need his help.

"Charon!"

I call, forcing myself to sit up. Without another thought he comes over. He looks at me, and then realizes what I need.

"Alright…alright."

He runs to his pack and pulls out some dirty water. Rushing back to me, he lays me on my stomach.

"You're fine."

He states, softly. Yeah I know I'm fine, I know I wasn't going to die, but the fact of the matter is, you lost sight of your priorities. His hands, smooth the wetness of the water over my back. When all that is done, I roll over, and he pours the water on my collarbone. I look in his eyes, searching, for the fire for me that I hope…is really, still there.

When I'm all well and fine, there's a thick silence. Amata cries, her sobs breaking the quiet every once in a while. I've lost my hunger. Standing I light a cigarette.

"I'll be right back."

I announce, better, from the radiation. I feel all three pairs of eyes burning into my back. One's curious, one's slightly concerned, and the last is too shocked and scared to care. Slamming the house door behind me, I sit on my new bed. Well, here I am. My new home, my new bed, all is well that ends well, right? That's how it should be. Just as we should be out, celebrating our newest victory against the Brotherhood. We should be sharing drink, singing into the night, and roasting the Guai on the fire as we share stories. Isn't…isn't that what was supposed to happen?

Blowing out smoke, I shake my head. It was, but it isn't. Holding the cigarette in my mouth, I look down at my hands. At my thighs, and then at my boots. I've looked the same, since I was nineteen. I've changed my hair, but…I'm the same. Is my sameness…is that what's pushing Charon away? Is that…what's making him forget me? Forget me, and leave me in the dust amidst the chaos? I don't know. I just know I want it back. I want the past back, when everything was so clean and new and fresh. After a while, I'd suspect people would get bored with one another. But…I never expected Charon to be bored. Never…expected this in a million years.

Hearing the door open, I sniff my nose and quickly clean my face. Dropping my cigarette, I crush it out with my boot. Just Charon. Sitting back down, I put my hands in my lap, my shoulders slumping forward.

"What's wrong?"

I don't have the strength anymore, to be angry at him. It's normal.

"Nothing. I'll be out soon."

"Are you hurt? Are you alright come here, let me see."

"Charon."

He looks at me, the same look. He's _never_ been different. Changed for the better, but mostly, the same. I've…never for one second…envisioned my future without him in it. Never thought, of growing old, without him. Never thought of waking in the dead of night, to an empty space next to me. Yet that…that seems so possible.

"What is it?"

Eagerly, he asks, leaning forward to check my back. I shake my head.

"Why'd…why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

I look up at him, smiling so, so sadly.

"You saved Amata, when I needed you. You…you like her, don't you? You can tell me, I don't think…I can be mad."

To my amazement, he laughs. He laughs and I stand up, quickly angry.

"What's so funny?"

Shaking his head, Charon puts his hand in the air, waving it at me. I scowl at him, failing to see any humor in this whatsoever.

"You're so…brazen, Dezbe."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Stopping his laughter, Charon stands in front of me, still smiling. Oh, how I love that smile of his. You smile, because you're happy. If you're happy, Charon, than I am, too.

"I don't like Amata."

"Then why'd you go to her?"

"Because when you're being shot at, you don't think very well. Hearing 'help me', I thought she was you."

I raise an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest. Charon wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. I hear him chuckle deep in his throat.

"I did. Believe me when I say, had I known she wasn't, I would have rather let her fall to her death than make you think, I had chosen _any_one above you."

"Jackie might say otherwise."

"Enough with that."

He looks at me, and I look at him. A million city lights, would not make him shine brighter. A trillion billion stars in the sky, cannot see him, as I see him now. Six years ago, I saw him just the same way. Six years ago, we were two bumbling idiots running around the Capital Wasteland, with foolish pipe dreams on my end, and humorous annoyance on his. Six years from back then, I stand in front of him still, when I believed that tomorrow was never promised.

He rubs my sore cheek, sighing and becoming serious.

"I wish to believe, you'll trust me again one day."

Closing my eyes, I rest my face in his hand. It's so warm. Warm, warm, warm.

"Tell me a story."

"Of what?"

He's surprised at my question, but believe me, there's a reason for this.

"Of us. Tell me about us. Remind me, why I love you."

His lips touch my forehead. In the dark of our new home, Charon holds me, tight and gentle at once. I hope, for Amata and Boone's sake, that they don't open this door. I'll kill them.

"I don't think there's enough time for that."

"Bastard."

I feel his hand on the top of my head. He flips up my short hair, running his fingers through it.

"Because when I'm without you, I don't know what it is I'm doing. And you love, having that kind of power over someone."

"Yeah, that's good."

"Look at me."

I listen to him, and lift my eyes to meet his. I can't, wipe the stupid smile off my face.

"Yeah?"

"You don't ever have to worry, about any other woman."

"I'll believe you in time."

Standing on my tip toes, I kiss him. I kiss him, and I do it with more passion and love than I ever have before. When you think you're going to lose someone, you do all you can to remind them why they love you. You kiss them, speak to them, hug them even, with such a passion it traps them. And I want to trap Charon. Trap him in this whirlwind of a romance with me forever. If I have to continue on fighting to keep him entertained, I'll do it. If I have to do nothing, and he'll love me anyways, I'll do that, too.

My hands work the straps to his armor. I know them, by heart now. Our lips move in unguided unison, as we part only to remove the stupid tops that get in the way of everything. I pull mine over my head, baring the extent of my scars to him, baring the extent of everything I have, to his and his eyes only. Charon doesn't even look, as his hand placed itself on the back of my head. As he pulls me back to kiss him, falling on the bed.

You and me, Charon, we're writing it all. We're writing this story of ours, and all we're doing is going through the motions we have. Motions, emotions, movements and actions, that are so normal to us. So normal, and so heated, that even the most perverted of slave owners envy.

"I want you…"

I whisper in his ear, his not-there-ear. Stroking the side of his cheek as he kisses me, I want nothing more than him. Every bit of him, every ounce, every and anything he has to offer, I want. There's not one thing about him I don't like, not one thing, that doesn't make me feel safe. Even as I feel his hands working my belt, as I keep my arms tightly around his shoulders, I feel safe. In this vulnerable moment, if anything were to happen, he's closer to me than he is any other time.

He kisses me, warm, as he works his own belt. I want to laugh at how much he's struggling to get it off. I run a nail down his spine, and he takes his lips away.

"Are you sure?"

Nodding, I kiss his chin. We're already both shirtless, why not take it the extra mile? The extra feel of passion, the only good thing we have, in this world. Of course…I'd give anything to be alone like we were in the abandoned house again. Knowing Boone and Amata are outside, gives everything a rushed feel. I want to savior this, and there will be time to later on, but right now all I want is him. Kissing along his collarbone, I impatiently wait for him to _hurry up_. When I hear the zipper, I know his belt is history and somehow lost within the torrent of clothing.

"Charon…oh…shit…"

I've forgotten this part. Forgotten, what comes over me at this moment. It's a wave I can't describe, a feeling too intense for words. For a minute, I can't feel a damn thing but the pressure and the unrelenting power of emotion that only comes, with being with the one you love. I stare at him, my chest rising and falling quickly, feeling his lips on my forehead. Closing my eyes I kiss him, and want nothing more than to do this at every chance I get. Because this is something, this feeling, that will never get old, no matter how many times we do it.

He takes my arms from his back, and laces his fingers with mine. He holds my hands, hard, fast, and stifling my moans and cries of pleasure with deep kisses. Its now, where I forget the world. Now, where all I can think of is this very moment, and his very being. I never want to be, with another man. I never want to watch him leave, never want him to leave. When I open my eyes as he kisses my neck, the bed creaking and groaning beneath us, all I see, are beautiful flowers. They blossom, and bloom, and they're so beautiful. I see them growing in the vast desert, wet against the rising sun. Charon makes me a silent promise.

Letting go of my hands, Charon strokes my face, his eyes soft, before kissing me. I wrap my arms around his head, trapping him there, because I want to hold him. I want him as close to me as humanly possible. Somehow I think we've achieved that.

"I love you."

I say quickly, between gasping breaths and deep thrusts. Charon kisses me, his reply. He doesn't have to say it, I know he loves me too. I know, that only someone who loves you back, can make you feel this beautiful, this safe and secure when all the world is ready to implode. His hands explore and feel the curves of my body, as if they're so new to him. As if, he's never gotten tired of it. I shudder, my legs bending more than they are.

Like he's done so many times in the past, Charon holds me in place as I cry out his name. All the Wasteland hears but fuck them. I want them to hear. Want to rub it in their faces, that in the dead of night, I'm tortured by the sweetest perfume that's ever existed. That for a brief and beautiful moment, all my dreams have a perfect logic, and everything is just as it seems. That just outside this home, are fields and fields of beautiful gardens, and the fresh smell of a new rain. When his body shakes, and he kisses me harder than I've ever kissed him, I know that he's seeing the same things.

"I love you, too."

His lips meet my forehead, as he lays above me. Displacing his weight perfectly, so that he can rest his head on my chest, and I can lie in perfect comfort. I feel, so, so warm. There's nothing in this world, more beautiful to me right now, than Charon's resting head, and tired eyes, as he closes them. Gently, softly, with all personal parts sill inside and resting, I stroke his head as he rests.

"When we're alone, it'll be better."

He says, kissing my hand. I sigh, relaxed.

"It doesn't get much better."

Charon kisses my chest, my scars that decorate it and all. With all the ugliness my body has seen and bears, he loves me just the same. Loves me, and accepts me. I can't ask, for much else.

"Charon?"

"Hm?"

"Stay here, stay right here, for the night."

"Just like this?"

"I want to hold you, for once. Stay with me tonight, okay?"

"Alright…I will."

He wraps his arm around my waist, his head still resting on my chest. It's not heavy, it's perfect, as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I feel like right now, everything is perfect and alright. Even if it's just until the sun rises, it's better than anything I've been handed these past few months.

"You're so warm."

I say, my heavy and tired eyelids closing. I breathe out, feeling the world slipping away.

"It's a cold night."

He says in tired reply. I feel his lips kiss my chest once more, before the world is lost to us. Before the morning light breaks this beautiful moment, and makes us wake. Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal, and we'll start planning. But right now, at this moment with Charon in my arms, breathing softly into sleep, everything is alright.


	51. Misinterpretation

(Amata)

"I think Dez is hurt."

I say as I stand up. Boone is trying to figure out how exactly, to cook the dead thing he and Dez brought back up. It seems without Charon, he's completely lost. I'm not even going to ask him, about what happened to make Charon hate him so much a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago, I was hanging by a thread. But, Charon saved me. I've never been saved before.

"No, she's not hurt."

I walk towards the house door, and hear Boone sigh behind me.

"But she was crying out."

"Amata, she's not hurt."

"But she…"

"How stupid are you?"

I turn around, genuinely surprised. Looking at Boone, I shudder in the cold wind.

"What?"

"They're fucking."

What? _What_? Fucking? As in…oh, oh my _god_! There's no _possible_ way that's the kind of relationship they have. Another gasping moan echoes softly from the house, followed soon after by a loud metal scraping.

"No…no way."

I can't help myself. I run to the door and peer through a small crack. It's pitch black inside there, but Dez's Pip-Boy gives off a small amount of light. Sure enough, her arm is draped around what I can only imagine to be Charon's back, and he's undeniably on top of her. Backing away, I raise my hand to my mouth.

"What's so shocking?"

Looking back at Boone, he's given up on the dead animal. I guess I can wait till tomorrow, after all seeing what I think I just saw is enough to actually make me want to ask him for a cigarette. Shakily, I walk back to the fire to warm myself. Boone lights his own cigarette up, just as the name 'Charon' is said from behind the thin walls of the shack.

"We're sleeping outside tonight."

I turn my head to him, narrowing my eyes. There's so many feelings going in and out of me right now, I'm not sure what to make of what.

"Why?"

"They want their privacy. If it isn't already blatantly obvious."

"You mean, they get to sleep inside while we get to freeze?"

"Seems that way."

"Well when they're done I'm going in there."

"That's not smart. Let them be, Amata."

No, no I do not want to 'let them be'. I most certainly, do _not_. It simply, isn't fair. Not only the sleeping outside while _she_ gets to stay inside but basically _everything_. We tossed her from the vault _twice_ and yet here she is, living the life that any girl dreams of. Being the badass heroine, being followed by a well-built and protective bodyguard, sleeping with said bodyguard, and attracting the likes of everyone around her. She's off fighting people, things, and living the next day to laugh about it. She never has to worry, because that bodyguard of hers will make sure she's alive and well the next morning. In more ways than one, apparently. Tell me, why is she so lucky, to have all that is good handed to her? I lost a father, too. I lost order and power in the vault, and had to rebuild it from next to nothing. Had to make it and figure out how it all fits all on my own. Yet she…she…it isn't fair.

I want…I want what she has. Someone to care for my every whim and want as Charon does, someone to make me cry out like that. Do you know no one has ever wanted to do that with me? No boy has ever sprouted any attention in me, whatsoever. I mean when I was sixteen I could have had my pick but since becoming Overseer none of them want anything to do with me. I can't figure why, but that's how it happened and that's why…I'm out here.

Coming out here, was supposed to give me a new lease on life. Instead I find myself in the cold, while my old classmate is moaning and crying out her intimate desires. I can hear the bed still squeaking, hear it all going down, and with each squeak I get more and more angry. When, will it be my turn, for a chance at that?

"What's troubling you?"

Boone asks, and I throw him a dirty look.

"Nothing."

I can get past Charon's ghoul side. It's not hard to. He's simply built and strong and caring and protective and from what I'm hearing, not half bad in the sack. Why does she get to have him? I'm sure men like that are a rarity, even out here. I bet Boone, would never give me the things, that Charon is giving to Dez right now. It's some form of deeper protection. I understand now, why he does things so tenderly with her. It's because of what I'm hearing right now. Because at the end of a night, he gets to take all he wants from her and she lets him. Charon, must really like her goods, to be so gentile with her all the time.

"You're jealous, aren't you?"

Another moan breaks the silence, followed by a deep angry sigh.

"No, I'm not."

"You are. I can tell. What is it with vault-girls and ghouls?"

"Look, just shut up, okay?"

Boone shrugs, ashing his cigarette.

"Alright fair enough."

"I'm just mad I have to sleep outside and they don't."

"Look you can go in there if you really want to. Not sure what bare ghoul-ass looks like but I'm not raging to find out."

"Have they been doing this the _whole_ time? Isn't it unprofessional that they like…have sex?"

Boone chuckles and shakes his head. I frown. It's really not that funny.

"Amata, you must truly be dense. Charon isn't her bodyguard anymore. He has been, and I have a feeling will be, her boyfriend and husband in all but name."

"You mean…you mean they actually…"

"Love one another? Yes I'm quite sure of it. But then again, I'm not sure how long it'll last."

I raise a curious, curious eyebrow. There may be a chance, for me to win, after all.

"What do you mean?"

Boone shrugs with a cocky air around him. Insert another moan.

"Well, it's not my place to tell this, so don't let them know I did, alright?"

I nod, eager for him to go on.

"Charon recently underwent surgery. It replaced his skin and he was able to be a human. During that time, he was quite unfaithful to Dez. Going so far as to fight with her and then return to his other woman."

"You mean…you mean he left her?"

"That's exactly what I mean. Came back, though. To his ghoul form and to Dez. Not sure why she took him back, you can tell he's the type to do it again."

"What do you mean?"

Boone shrugs again, throwing his cigarette into the flames.

"If the right girl gets presented to him, I don't think he'll turn it down. But don't tell Dez none of that. I'm scared to think of what she might do."

As Boone finishes his sentence, I hear Dez call out Charon's name. It drips, with passion and desire, leaving behind an echo and a stir of softness. When the stillness vanishes, I realize I can't hear the squeaking of the bed. The entire Capital Wasteland witnessed Dez's climax, and I hope she's damn proud of that show of vulgarity.

But with Boone's information fresh in my mind, I start to tick away at thoughts. So. Charon has had other women, which means he doesn't care for Dez very much. You could have fooled me, though. The way he acts around her, it's quite the show. All doting and caring and protective and soft and all those qualities that make a man decent and good. But he was still unfaithful. Once you taste honey it's hard to go back to sugar, and I'm thinking that I have honey right where Charon wants it.

Not sure how I'd do this, but if I could have him, care about me the way he does Dez, maybe then I'd do better out here. Maybe even, Charon would like to come to the vault with me. We could, you know, live there. It's just the way he acts and is, that makes me so attracted to him. And the fact that he's dutiful and strong and doesn't hesitate to fight or stand up for whomever he's sleeping with. I still can't believe she loves him, though.

I mean, I can. I can totally see where she fell in love with him, and why he would want her. I don't think many of his kind have chances with real humans. But to actually think of them being in _love_ is absurd. No such thing really exists, at least, it never did in the vault. People married for convenience and for the advancement of future generations, breeding really, not for 'love'. I don't even think being in love crossed any of the older women's minds. Maybe at sixteen when they were young but…when you get older responsibilities take over. You have to do what's right for the community.

"I think they're done if you want to have a look."

It's almost like Boone's challenging me to. Well I never let a challenge slip by, so I stand up. I feel him watching me as I walk to the door, turning on my Pip-Boy light. This is probably going to end badly, but it doesn't matter. A part of me, kind of has to really see this, to believe it, too. When I get to the door, I look back at Boone. He waves his hand at me, and it's like we're two curious kids. I figure the worst I can get is yelled at.

Quietly, I open the door and stick my light in first. I'm not really prepared for what I see. A naked Dez, beneath a naked Charon. His back is half-flesh and mostly muscle, and he's resting his head on Dez's chest. Their soft breathing tells me they're sleeping. Dez's legs are still wrapped around his waist, as if they just stopped mid-thrust and passed out. Maybe they did, I have no idea. I just know Dez's body is totally covered in scars, and trust me they're not flattering. Her arms are wrapped around his head and shoulders, while his hang tightly to her waist. I might find this cute, if I wasn't pushing feelings for the man she's with.

Shaking my head, I step back and silently close the door. I can't sleep inside, anyways. There's no other bed and asking them to move over might not be my best bet. Walking back to Boone, I sit down and he stares at me.

"Naked, huh?"

He asks as he lights another cigarette. I look at him from the corners of my eyes.

"Yup."

"Ghoul-ass?"

Shrugging, I sigh. Charon's well-built, ghoul or not, it's attractive.

"Not half bad."

"Women."

I still cannot believe this. I guess Dez wasn't lying the other night, when she said Charon stays because he loves her. After six years, you have to really love someone to go back to them.

"The sex must be really good, because I don't see why else he stays. She's insane."

Boone nods in agreement.

"That may be, but also take in part they've seen a lot together. Maybe he stays because it's easy. It's comfortable because they know one another."

"I don't want to see their kids."

"Ghouls are sterile."

Oh, well, that makes it better then I guess. No it doesn't. It just makes me want to roll my eyes. The world isn't ready or ever will be, for the spawn of Dez. I don't think I'd even want to hear the news if that ever happened. Hopefully she'd get shot in the stomach. Oh wow, that was really mean of me to say. I didn't mean that. Even in my mind, I offend something.

Dez shouldn't be so lucky, though. She hasn't done much of anything to deserve what she has, whereas I've done things. I've saved the vault and restored it, it's near perfect. At least that's better than running around somewhere shooting it all up. Folding my arms over my chest, I stare at the fire.

"You know, you could try talking to him more. No doubt in my mind a pretty girl like you couldn't take him from Dez."

"What? I'm not much like Dez. Seems like he goes for the hack and slash kind of women."

"A pretty girl is a pretty girl. Maybe he's looking to upgrade from his worn-out one. You saw her scars, she's about had it. Might as well wrap her up and serve her on a platter she's carved so bad."

"Maybe he's into that."

Boone lays down, using his pack as a pillow.

"Maybe you need to stop being so whiny and do something. Nothing is out of bounds here, Amata. The faster you learn that, the better off you'll be."

He rolls over, his back facing the fire. There's no more room for conversation. He's right, though. I'm so well-adapted to the rules and regulations of vault-life that I've completely forgotten about how here, there's little to no rules. Anything is seemingly up for grabs, and only the people you cross can punish you. If you can't run faster than they can, that is. Boone is right, too. Dez is worn out and tired. By now, Charon has to be sick of her. He has to be secretly pining for something, someone, else. He did save me, didn't he? His hands wrapped around my forearms and he pulled me to safety even though I was standing on a thin ledge. He could have just as easily gone to Dez, tended to her wounds, and then came to help me after. But he didn't. He came to me first. In a twisted, fucked up way, that has to mean something. Doesn't it?


	52. After My Dreaming, I Woke With This Fear

(Charon)

Opening my eyes, rays of sunlight peer in through the cracks in the walls. Dust, bounces around as the morning makes itself present. I know, it's early because of how low the light is. Memories of last night fill my mind, and I intake a deep breath of fresh air. Our legs, are still tangled in with one another's. Dez's arms are still wrapped around my shoulders, and my head moves with her rhythmic breathing. This is my home now. I suppose, it's better than nothing. Not as good as the Tenpenny suite, but something more like the home we shared in Megaton. At least, when this is over, Dez and I will have a place to return to.

Sighing, I lift my arm and run my hand over Dez's torso. Although scarred, her skin, even the bare muscle, is smooth. As if every night, she applies lotion that makes it feel baby-soft. Waking up beside her, just as we are now, is a feeling I've missed greatly. A feeling, neither one of us are able to take advantage of most of the time. I hope soon, things change, and this could be part of our morning routine. It's something great to ask, but no one ever outlawed wishing.

I've never truly, had this before. Had the emotions that came, with the morning and the aftermath. With Lily, it was always business and a chore. Dez, our first night, it was just like this the next day. I left, though, before I could savior it. I should have stayed. Should have laid next to her, and held her while we were both half-asleep. But back then, I was foolish and new to all of this. I was unsure, really, of how to act and what to do. It's different now, I trust my instincts. Trust them, and they allow me to have mornings like this.

I let my hand come to beneath her right breast. With my fingertips, I trace gently the scars that the Deathclaw left. Only minor ones, on the insides of either breast are present, and I find them fascinating. As if, they decorate it, almost. Around her nipple, pink fleshy scars dance around and say 'give me attention'. In a way, they make her chest appear more rounded. Giving accents and features, to things that normally wouldn't have any. All of her scars, seem to do that for her. Seem to give traits and individuality to things, that wouldn't have much to say. To me, they make her just that much more beautiful and interesting. Only a survivor, someone who truly fights, can dawn the scars she's been given.

Waking up this way, is new to me. I've never been woken, with arms around me. In all of our time spent together, I've always held Dez. Now, to be the one being held, and feel the comfort it provides, I can understand how much that night in Megaton meant to her. She needed, the comfort of another being. Needed to feel safe, and protected. I didn't know, what degree of those things, that a simple motion could offer. Letting my eyelids fall a bit, I rest my hand atop her breast and sigh. Around my shoulders, I feel Dez's arms tighten in my sleep. She pulls me closer to her, hugging me. I'm not sure what she's dreaming, but she knows I'm here, and all is well.

Outside, Boone and Amata must still be sleeping. After all, no one came in last night. Of course Amata was nosy and peered in a couple times. Yes, I saw her, and yes, I heard her. I'll speak with her today, later on, about privacy and boundaries. She doesn't seem to understand them just yet. Getting looked at while in an intimate and vulnerable moment, doesn't do much for my performance. One of the reasons, I promised Dez that it will be far better, when we're alone. The last night we were able to be alone, was on the balcony at Tenpenny. Even then, we were rudely interrupted in the aftermath. There was no time, to simply hold her close and have what I've heard is called 'pillow talk'. Last night, both of us were far too exhausted for it.

If I could choose, what it was I would be doing every day and night of my life, it would be this. It would be to wake, beside Dez without the constraints of my armor or hers, and to fall asleep in the same manner. Living day by day, doing what we please without the fear of anyone coming after us, seems so far away, yet so much like paradise. I know very well, there are no such things as families out here. Many of them, are attacked, killed, or generally unhappy. I'm personally not a family type, either. If Dez, somehow, became pregnant with my child, I wouldn't know what to do. I'd stand by her side, but knowing how to raise something I'm partly if not wholly, responsible for is beyond me. But something for just us, without the third party, would be nice. Not a house with a white picket fence or any of that pre-war garble, but…this…this could be very nice for us. This shack and bed, surviving on basic needs and generally having a carefree style of living. I hope, one day, I can provide that for her. Perhaps, even, I could give her a piano to play until her hearts content. She plays, so beautifully.

Her nails lightly scratch my back, as she kicks her leg. I wonder if she's dreaming about another adventure. I want to pick my head up and look at her, but I don't want to risk losing this moment to the world. To time, and to the things we must do, just yet. Moments like these, are far too rare for me. I want to appreciate this, as long as I can. Her breathing, is a soft lullaby to me, as I rest my tired head on her chest. I almost, didn't have this chance. Almost lost her entirely, and just thinking of what would happen if someone took her from me, killed her even, scares me. I don't think, I'd be able to control my training, and my past.

It's been haunting me. My past. At night, I dream of snippets and clips of things I've done. I see the faces, the ghosts of those whose lives I've taken dancing in front of me, mocking me and there's nothing I can do to make them vanish. I dream mostly, of the fires that plagued this city, of the burning of the radiation, and the horrid screams of those I prevented from getting into Underworld. I dream of the countless women I was forced to bring to Ahzrukhal, their cries, their pleadings with me. In my dreams, my memories, I want nothing more than to let them go. To set them free, to kill him for doing those…those horrible things but I can't. Can't, because I couldn't in the past. My contract bound me, my training forced me, I had to obey. Obey, and submit, sometimes even watch while he did unspeakable horrors, to women and girls who…who did nothing deserving of it.

I don't notice how tightly I've been holding Dez. My eyes closed, all I can see are those terrible moments and faces. Feeling her arms gripping my shoulders, brings me back. Back, to reality, as I open my eyes. Her chest inhales deeply, and I lighten my hold.

"…You…okay?"

She breathes out, still somewhat sleeping. Lifting myself up, I know I can't run from the day forever, as much as I would like to. Leaning over her, I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. I stare at her, smiling a bit, relieved she brought me back to where I belong.

"Yes. I'm alright."

Kissing her chin, I feel her arms pull me down to her more. Our lips touch, and in a sleepy hazy we're in the process of beginning another emotional episode. Not bad emotions, not the kind you'd cry from or run away from, but the kind you look for. The kind, you go out of your way to seek out. My hands run along her sides, her nails brush the back of my head and neck. I want, to hold her like this for as long as I can. Forever, if it's ever possible.

"Hey are you guys up?"

The door bursting open, the sound of Amata's voice, it's all not how I wanted to begin my morning. Dez and I quickly pull away from one another, and stare blankly at Amata, as she stands in the doorway. Dez is faster than I in this embarrassing moment, and she removes herself from under me. I am in no way, happy to have Amata with us.

"What the hell, Amata? Haven't you heard of knocking?"

Naked, Dez stands with her hands on her hips, tired and angry. A part of me wants to roll over and laugh but instead, I lean over and quickly snatch up my pants.

"I didn't know if you were awake. Dez what the hell, put clothes on!"

"Coming from the girl who barged in here! Put your own damn clothes on."

"I _have_ my clothes on."

"Yeah well, fuck you. I'll show you."

Dez starts to charge towards the door. I stand as I pull on my pants, buckling them. Amata's eyes wander into places they shouldn't, and when I finally am able to walk without tripping I chase Dez out. Boone is probably awake and I don't want whatever she's doing naked, to include him.

She makes it out the door, while I shove past Amata. Standing on the edge of the cliff with Boone staring at her in shock, Dez lights a cigarette and stares out into the vastness. I'm a bit curious about this.

"Ah…"

She says, blowing out smoke.

"…Freedom."

I burst out laughing. I simply can't help it. Leave it to Dez, to turn something embarrassing and awkward into a comical situation. She knows how private I am, and pulled a stunt to get the attention off of our near-sex-caugh-in-the-act moment, and onto her. I know this, because she looks back at me, winking. Giving me a small smirk over her shoulder, she raises the cigarette to her lips. It's then I realize, I'm still half-dressed, without my boots on, bare-chested, and pants that are only buckled and not buttoned or zipped.

"What the hell are you _doing_?"

Boone asks her, finally registering everything in his mind. It makes me laugh a bit more, but I still hate him.

"I'm abusing the shit out of my freedom. Try it sometime. Hey Charon…wanna join me?"

I turn around, heading back to the house to get dressed properly. I don't like being seen without my armor on.

"No."

"You're absolutely no fun, you know that?"

I shrug it off, hearing her footsteps coming behind me. Amata is still in the house, and when Dez notices this, it makes for one awkward stare-down.

"Why are you still in here?"

Dez asks, wrapping her arms around my bare torso. I feel her breasts against my back and in my mind, curse Amata to hell. In a way, I figure Dez is proving a point. There's an unspoken language between women, one I'm positive Amata and Dez share. What they say and mean in this language, I have yet to figure out. Dez showing this form of PDA is a signal to Amata, probably that I am hers. Although, I highly doubt and want to laugh at, Amata wanting to take me from Dez.

"I want to make sure you get dressed and not…other things."

"That's not creepy at all. You know, being watched when you're twenty-five and naked. No, Amata, you are not creepy."

Dez rubs her face into my back, still holding me as I bend down to retrieve my shirt. I look back at her.

"I can't dress, with you there."

"I'm hiding my personal attributes from Amata the Creep."

"You just _showed_ Amata your attributes."

"You smell delicious."

I sigh and shake my head. Although humorous, it's quite annoying.

"Amata, please step outside. We'll be out shortly."

I say, trying to pull my shirt over my head while Dez still clings to me. When the door slams shut, she lets me go, sighing.

"Fuck her."

"Dez, don't be difficult. Get dressed, we have to plan."

She walks over and grabs her top. Putting it on with no effort at all, she looks for her pants. I search for my armor with my eyes as I slide on my shirt.

"Here's the plan. Ditch Humpty and Dumpty and go blow the shit out of the Brotherhood with a Fat Man."

"We don't even know where the Brotherhood are."

Uncaring, Dez shrugs. Pulling up her Pip-Boy she stands, still without pants, and glares at her map.

"They're in the city, for sure. But…where…nowhere near Rivet…Charon did you notice anything suspicious when you were in Rivet City?"

"No I was preoccupied."

Finding my armor top I slide it on and buckle the straps.

"They might be near the Jefferson Memorial. Or even the ruins of the Citadel."

"I'd suspect the ruins of the Citadel. There's still valuable technology there."

Suddenly, as if she's hit with some bright new idea, Dez drops her Pip-Boy and stares at me. I know that look. Nothing good, ever comes from that.

"Fort Independence."

"What?"

I say, tugging on my boots and beginning to lace them.

"That's where they are, Fort Independence."

"And you know this?"

"Charon, McGraw took over the Brotherhood. Casdin is dead, and we did away with Lyons. McGraw wouldn't by any means, call for backup without a place to stay, right?"

"I suppose, yes."

"So then wouldn't, after moving most of his men out, McGraw eventually return to the fort _after_ he believed both of us to be dead? It makes perfect sense. It's secured, not easily accessible, has underground areas, and rooms to spare."

"You have a valid point."

"Charon, there's no other place. Where else would McGraw be able to command an army? They have to sleep, eat and shit somewhere, right? Fort Independence might be the last large working facility available. If they are there, it's to our advantage."

Getting my last boot laced, I stand up and grab my gun.

"How so?"

Dez gives me a coy look, putting her pants on and tossing her cigarette on the floor. I step on it for her, not wanting to burn down my own newfound home.

"Because we've been there before, Charon."

"And we're going back, aren't we?"

"If Bigsley isn't there, then he's at the memorial. Either way, we can blow the fuck out of the fort and then stroll on down to the memorial all happy and shit. Since, well, there won't be anymore Brotherhood. I'm going to blow it up."

"It's not that easy, Dez."

"Is it ever?"

It's all she says before racing out to tell Boone and Amata the plan. Staying behind, I sigh and shake my head. When all this is over, I won't be sad. I won't miss these days, like I do the days when we first met. Maybe, if I'm able to bring the Capital Wasteland some justice, the haunting images of my past will go away. I know I can't run from it forever, but I'd like to. After all, there's no real logical way for me to face it now, anyways.

Walking outside, I shut the door behind me. It's unlikely anyone will come here, and if they do and we find them upon our return, it won't be hard to kick them out. By the time I make it to Dez, she's finishing up telling her idea and plan to Boone and Amata.

"How do you expect to 'blow it up'?"

Boone asks, folding his arms. He obviously doesn't know Dezbe very well, if he doubts she can do that. I've seen her blow up many a things in my time. She's perfectly capable of it.

"I'll figure something out. But that's what we're doing."

"Dez, that's dangerous."

"Shut _up_ Princess Amata Creep."

Amata shakes her head. She gathers up her loose brown hair and proceeds to pull it into a bun. I watch, for a bit, and wonder what Dez would have looked like had she put her hair back.

"I need to get a gun…we gotta kill someone for one. Or shells. Charon give me shotgun shells."

"I use drums."

I tell her, looking down. She shrugs, and looks at the sky.

"We should get moving."

And with that, we do. Amata and Boone have no argument against Dez, or her plan. Figure going on that, must be better than going on nothing at all. At least we have a goal, a destination. Something to work towards. If the fort turns out to be empty, we'll start from scratch and move on. But if we get there, and succeed in Dez's half-assed plan, then what happens next? Will Boone and Amata continue to follow us? I can only hope not.

Lagging a bit behind as we walk down the hill, I allow Boone to walk up front with Dez. I have to speak with Amata, pertaining to the incident last night. When she comes to my side, I notice she's a bit too eager to talk to me.

"How're you?"

Not the question I'd expect from someone like her. I hadn't really expected her to be so comfortable around me so suddenly. But I think nothing of it.

"I would like to discuss something with you, Amata."

"You know, Charon you talk like you're from another time almost."

I narrow my eyes at her as we all reach the base of the hill. Dez chats up Boone about random things, the weather being one of them. Today is a cloudy day, I expect there to be rain. If, that is, rain is still going to happen. It's been twice and once with snow, it's slowly becoming the East Coast once more. With the weather, changing in simply five minutes.

"I am."

"Oh, right, the old thing."

I am not 'old'. I am a ghoul. I do not see myself as old, nor do I feel old. After a while of living, you sometimes even lose track of your age. Or even, living itself. Luckily these past few years are worth remembering.

"Amata I would like to discuss last night."

"Last night?"

"You need to know and understand people's privacy."

I look at her, lighting a cigarette. Amata didn't think she'd been seen, I'm suspecting. I wouldn't have noticed her, either, if she hadn't been screaming about it to Boone. I'm glad for my sake and sanity, Dez didn't hear her.

"I…didn't think you saw me…"

Her voice quivers and shakes, I know very well she's embarrassed. I would be too, but then again, I wouldn't be caught doing that. I understand she's from the vault and a bit oblivious, but that is still unacceptable.

"I did. Feel lucky it wasn't Dez who saw you."

Amata sighs and nervously plays with her hands. Looking at Dez, I sigh a bit. She's pointing at something and talking to Boone. It can only be another inane example.

"I am. She would have flipped. But I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I was just shocked. Didn't know that you two had that sort of relationship is all."

"You couldn't tell? I had thought it would be obvious."

"No, no I didn't. Or, couldn't. I just thought, I don't know, you were close. Didn't think you were _that_ close."

Sighing, I toss my cigarette to the ground. There's no need to step on it. Dark, gray clouds are coming in above me. It's not a figure of speech, there truly is rain coming. Since it's during the day I suspect it'll be a cool refresher. Amata already seems like she's sweating. We haven't even walked far. Glancing over my shoulder, I can still see the shack.

"We are."

I say in late reply. Amata sighs, biting her lip.

"Charon? Can I ask you something?"

"Suppose."

Amata sighs again, something must be bothering her.

"Boone told me about some things, but I'm not sure if I can ask you. He said not to say anything, but I can't."

"What is it?"

She looks at me, her brown eyes trying to bore holes in my skull.

"Boone said you weren't faithful to Dez."

I stop walking, but then start again. Causing a scene wouldn't be in my best interest right now, so I try to avoid it. Right now, the most effective thing to do is to ask Amata all I can about what Boone's said, and then use it later on, when things settle down. It'll give me an excuse to have the both of them leave the party. I'd rather not, be talked about, more than I already am.

"Boone said this?"

"Yeah, last night. Said you weren't really that loyal to her. Slept with some lady."

"I see."

"Well? Is it true?"

"That's none of your concern. You should be discussing more pressing matters, other than what Dez and I are doing in our spare times."

With that I walk away from Amata. Dez and Boone are still talking/arguing over something I don't really care for, when I push between them.

"Oh, hello Charon. Fancy seeing you here."

"Hm."

By instinct Dez knows I'm angry. Boone picks up on it eventually. I won't say anything to Dez for now, because she'll beyond a reasonable doubt, cause a scene.

"Charon, you alright?"

I feel her lay a hand on my bare arm, and I nod. Why am I constantly reminded of things that I only wish to forget? It isn't like I close my eyes and imagine Lily or Jackie to get my 'kicks'. In fact, the only time they cross my mind is when Dez brings them up, or in moments like these where I'm forced into thinking about them. I'd rather not, remember them, remember what I did with them, or anything about them, really. It wasn't spectacular, wasn't life-changing, and certainly wasn't anything comparable to what I have with Dez. Yet here I am, still wondering over it.

I suppose being forced to think about them, is better than being forced to think about my past. With all that's been happening, and nearly losing Dez, it seems now more than ever, my past is coming back to me. The mistakes I realize now I've made, the misguided beliefs, the horrible feelings when certain things happened, it all plays in my mind. As if I'm watching it on a screen at a drive-in theatre. One of those pre-war types, with many cars. Yet I can't figure how to close my eyes or stop it. I see myself, committing horrible acts and watching as my hands grow stained with blood over time. It makes me uneasy, even now as I walk.

Perhaps speaking of these incidents, will at least cause them to stay dormant. Yet I don't know the first thing, on initiating a conversation that deep. It must have to simply happen naturally, and until it does there's nothing I can do. Dez knows only a summary, of what I've done. The short-PG-13 rated kind. She doesn't know, to what extent, the crimes I've committed. One of the reasons, I don't feel worthy or good enough for Dez is…is mainly because of Ahzrukhal.

Bringing women back, without so much as a second glance, she mentioned once to me that one of those women could have been her. After Dez said that, years ago, I began to think. Think that, what if it was? Or worse, thinking and perhaps even knowing, those girls had lives. People who loved them, a family perhaps, but someone cared for them. They, were somebody's daughter. Yet without any remorse, I would take them, knock them unconscious or at least quiet them, and return them to Ahzrukhal. He'd do his bidding, his crimes worse than anything I've seen before. As sick as it is, I felt better about it all when he let me watch. Because then, the cries weren't as deep, and the pain for them wasn't as sharp. He never fully hurt them, if I was present. It comforts me, in a way, to make me think that I spared them at least some pain.

Looking over the Wastes, I try not to remember it, but I can't help myself. We walk on an old, broken road. I've traveled this road before, in a car, and on foot. Walked through this now-wasteland area. It was pre-war, and it was a busy side-street. I can still see the black, shining pavement if I look down hard enough, and concentrate. Emerging from Vault 101, to see the only place I had ever known in flames…I'm not sure what it did to me. The radiation burned, the smoke was chocking me, and yet I survived. I suppose I have my determination and training to thank for that. The walk to the city…though, was something I never want to see again.

It was as if people were burning from the inside out. Mothers held dying children, men tried to save women and offer comfort. But there was no comfort to be offered. No matter where you were or tried to hide, you were hit with the radiation. Fierce, pure, undiluted, it made your skin crawl and eyes burn. Similar, to pepper spray. I heard cries of sorrow, of pain, of anger and torture when I walked to the city that was engulfed in flames. I can't explain, what drove me to walk there. Perhaps the thought of protection? Of safety? Or maybe it was my obedient nature, listening to my former employer to run away from Vault 101. I can't say. As I walked, I looked down at one point, the pain numbing me almost. I looked into the eyes of a woman who clung mercilessly to a man. The man, was dead in her arms, but she was so scared she didn't realize it. She asked me for help, grabbed my leather pant leg, and cried. I didn't know what to do. I kept walking, thinking only…only of finding an employer and dealing with the horrors before me. Even though then, I didn't fully understand it.

Now, I'm beginning to. It's all coming back to me, uncensored, unhinged. It's because back then I had no emotions. Had no ties to reality, only a simple objective. Find an employer, and obey. Obey and serve, as I was so dutifully trained to do. Now that, emotions are present in my everyday life, I find the memories playing back. The emotions, coming with each and every instance. That woman I saw, who begged me for help, I regret not helping her. It hurts inside, to remember her. She died without a name, as so many people in those days, did.

The fires were massive, and I forget now how many days it took for them to put themselves out. With acidic rain fueling them in a way acidic rain shouldn't, the fires raged onwards and spread. Anything that survived the bombings, was engulfed in the flames. Of course the fires never left the city, because the river protected the suburbs. But it burned as hot, and as thick as a fire could. Until they were extinguished, I held down the safe-haven that would become Underworld. With no employer, but having something, a group, to protect I felt at ease. There were instances where I left the museum, in search of food and supplies. Most of the time, I came back with something. But there were days, a few days even, when everyone would cry from hunger.

So many bodies, were piled in Underworld. The smell, even as the years passed on, never left. It's why Underworld smelt the way it did. Because the stench of fifty rotting bodies never truly leaves. There was no way to dispose of them, to bury them, with the fires yearning to get inside. When they died, was when the fire was white-hot. Opening the doors was a no-go, since they burned to the touch. So we lived with them, the bodies of our dead loved ones, in the center around the broken statue, until it was safe for us to release them into the world.

Just because the fires ended, though, didn't mean the horrors and torments did.

"Charon?"

I blink my memories leaving and the droplets of rain hitting the top of my head becoming apparent. Looking down at Dez, I give her a blank stare.

"…What is it? Tell me?"

She knows when something is on my mind. I'm not quite sure yet, if I like it or not.

"At a later time."

"Is it me?"

"What? What, no. No, it's not you. Calm down."

She shrugs and takes my hand. For a minute, she squeezes it. I stare at her, when she lets it go. The rain begins to fall harder. Behind us, Boone is explaining the concept of 'rain' to Amata. Dez and I walk onwards, soaking to the bone. The mood of the rain, is befitting.


	53. The Truth and the Lies

(Dez)

He hides it so well. It's almost scary, how easily he's able to dismiss and hide things. Hasn't it been long enough? It's not like, I don't know what he's hiding. He's learned to keep it to himself, to never open up about it. I'm not one of those emotional soul-bearing types, either, but…but I think if he doesn't soul-bare soon it might kill him. If not, then break him. Charon is strong, on the outside. But yet I've seen him fall. I've seen him crumble and shake, from the inside out. At the end of the day, especially since his contract is gone, he's only as strong as he wants to be. As strong as he thinks he is.

I would listen to him, if he told me. I'd hear his words, and I'd care. He's probably not use to that, and if he doesn't tell me in his own time, then I'll have to force it. After over two-hundred years of keeping most of his life inside, he has to let it go. He's taken enough beatings, taken enough hits and punches, to last a lifetime. Eventually, he'll have to drop this isolated fear, and share it with me. In a sense, I think he's trying to protect me. Protect me from hearing the imperfect image he once was. But, Charon doesn't know, I've never been perfect, either. We all have horrible secrets. Pasts we don't want to share, even me. If he tells me, I won't think any less of him than I do now. Nothing will change between us, except maybe his closeness to me.

All that hurt and pain he carries inside, I know it's there. He can't save himself, from himself. That should be my doing, right? Last night, he woke me up. I'm sure he doesn't remember it, since he was sleeping but I do. I do, and it bothers me we didn't have time today to talk about it. Maybe tonight we will, but I'm not sure. The rain, it feels nice, and I lean my head back to face it.

Last night, Charon cried out in his sleep. He was muttering something, words I didn't understand in my groggy haze, and he was clutching me like I clutch him. Tight, close, afraid to let go even for a second. I was drifting back to sleep, when I heard him mention something about Ahzrukhal. It's how I came to the conclusion that his past, is really affecting him these days. Charon's by all means, mentally unstable. Sure he seems level-headed and calm, compared to me, but someone with that much hurt inside, and that much training, can't be very secure. Secure meaning, not going to snap.

If something happens, I know he will. I've never seen the full extent of his training, because if I did I'm not sure I'd survive it. I guess it would be, to him a blind rage at this point. There's things he was trained to do, that aren't used as often as others. It doesn't mean they're not there, all it means is that they're itching and dying to come out. Hopefully, soon, those things will be softened and quieted. I want him to talk to me, so maybe then, I can help him.

When I let go of his hand, he looks at me for a long time. It's like he doesn't know me, or recognize me, and is wondering why this strange girl just touched him. As changed as he is, Charon is still the ghoul he was in Ahzrukhal's employment. Still the ghoul he was the first night we met. Only now, he's able to vocalize much, much more. I think that's a bit dangerous, too. Everything he does, has a dangerous undertone.

"How far until we reach the vicinity of Fort Independence?"

Charon asks, rubbing his wet head with his wet hand. Behind me Amata and Boone are discussing the logic of rain. I forgot to tell her about the weather, and how it does this cool changing thing. I might come to like the rain. So long as it's warm, like this is. Pulling up my map, I sigh.

"Dunno. Took us what, a day and a third of a day to reach the shack from Megaton? Fort Independence is further than that, so maybe three days? I'm not really great at guessing these things."

"No matter. It'll allow us time to further plan things."

"Further plan what? After I make sure Bigs is alright, there's nothing left to do."

Charon shakes his head, sighing.

"There's much more to do."

"Like what? Indulge me. Ah, fucking rain!"

The rain is fresh, and it's nice and warm and not too bad, but the mud it creates makes it difficult to walk. The broken road we're traveling on has mud puddles and I damn near just slipped in one.

"Like what we're going to do after, and how we'll live."

"Charon?"

"I wouldn't mind, living in that place with you. To me, it'd be the closest thing to normalcy I've ever been. It'll be nice, to sleep each night and wake with you there, without the fear or worry of intruders. I can provide caps, if needed. I'm a strong worker. There's always money to be made, as a hit-man."

"Charon…"

I hold back from hugging him. He wants to stay with me. Wants to live up in that shack way, way, way high near those twinkling, twinkling stars and provide like a man for me. We won't need much provisions, and I won't let him have a chance to leave. Between cooking and having sex, Charon won't know when a good time to slip out is. For a while I've been thinking he hasn't wanted that.

"What do you think of that? Would you enjoy, a mundane life as such?"

We can go and return as we please. We can stay all year, or be gone all year. Either way, at the end there's a home. A home, where Charon is, where I am, where we can get back to. Looking up at him, I smile.

"I'd love that. After this, no one will want to kill us. We'll live, like we've never lived before."

He pats my head, the water from my hair running down my already wet face.

"Good."

Charon and me, together for as long as together can be. I think, things may start to look up in our lives. Since I've been here, someone's wanted me. In one way or another, someone has. It'll be nice, to live in peace.

"Charon, we have to see Gob first."

He raises an eyebrow. There's a reason I have yet to tell him about Gob. After getting so mad over Lily and Jackie, I feel sort of embarrassed.

"Why?"

"We have to tell him, Charon. We have to tell him what we're doing and where we're living. When we're done, he'll know and can come visit when Zack is bigger. No one will want our heads, it'll be safe."

"I wonder what it is that makes you like him so much."

"He's your friend too."

"Not the kind I go out of my way for."

"Megaton is on the way. We can rest there, too."

I stick my tongue out, proud.

"And, he was…the first nice person I met when I left. You don't forget someone like Gob, when you're me."

Charon smiles in understanding. He pats my head again, the water running down again. This rain, is a nice rain. It's warm and inviting and cools everything off just right. I'm sure Amata was flipping shit when she felt it. Water from the sky? She needs to learn anything out here is possible. If you want it, or dream it, then it can be yours all yours. All you have to do is find it or make it.

"I'm hungry."

Amata announces from the back of the group. We didn't eat the Yao Guai we killed, damn. I was so excited about getting out and going through with this plan, that I forgot to eat. My bad.

"Without a fire, we can't cook anything."

Charon announces to her. In my terms that means 'shut up and get over it'. She's still Princess Amata Creep to me, anyways. Who does that? Who really wants to watch two grown people dress? A creep. And I have this slight notion, that she's taking a liking to Charon. Call me crazy, but it's one of those woman senses I seem to have discovered. I just sense these days, she's really in-tune with getting to know him. It took me years, to get him to reveal his past to me. Even then it wasn't big. Amata's gonna have to wait till I'm dead and gone if she wants to take my place. I don't think she's going to live that long, though. Maybe she'll take up a liking for Boone and everyone can fall in love and fuck. Seems to be the way of my life these days.

"What about after the rain stops? It will stop, right?"

"Then everything's wet, Amata. And wet things don't catch fire. Yes, it'll stop."

"Then what'll we do for food?"

I shrug, not caring. I've gone longer without eating, thus the weight loss. Had a nice roll from them sweetrolls in the vault. It's gone now, thank heavens. It's not really a big deal to me, anyways. Eating, that is. I know sooner or later, I'll come across something and eat it, and then be fine.

"Dez, you can't be telling me we're not eating."

Looking at her, I sigh.

"Amata, look. We're not in the vault. We're in the wilderness. Three square meals a day and a warm bed are gone unless you're living in a settlement, understand? If you want that again, we can drop you back off at Vault 101 on the way to wage war."

She shakes her head, her eyes falling to the ground. The rain makes her bun limp and soggy and it reminds me of wet toilet paper on the roll. Not sure why, yet, but it does. Turning back to walk beside Charon, I put my hands behind my head and press my head back.

"Charon?"

"Hm?"

"What's your dream?"

Charon blinks, and I look at him. A steady pace and line of walking has been built, behind me and out of earshot, Boone and Amata talk about things. Not sure what things, but here and now, Charon talk about our things.

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging, I close my eyes.

"I dunno. When I was little, I was told to follow my heart no matter what. I always dreamed of a life filled with adventure, princes in disguise, and a world where everyone liked me. Two out of three isn't bad. But what's yours?"

"I'm not sure. I was simply told to obey when I was younger."

Alright fair enough he's not in the talking mood. No one is, really. Aside from Amata and Boone, but god knows what they're talking about. Can't care enough to want to get into that conversation, either. Opening my eyes, I get a raindrop in one of them. Annoyed I rub it out. Hopefully this time tomorrow I'll be seeing Gob. Nothing in this whole world, beats seeing Gob. I know I should tell Charon, about what happened when he was away but…how? How could I mention something like that, after I got so mad about Jackie and Lily? In my own defense I thought Charon had left me. Seriously, I did.

We start to walk uphill a bit, and I slip in the mud. The rain coming down like this makes it hard to walk. I feel Charon's hand wrap around my arm, pulling me to my feet before I fall to the ground. In the rain, I look up at him, and smile. We're walking towards impending death. Walking into a massacre our own bodies may be a part of, yet in this moment I smile at him. The thoughts of what will happen later aren't important. It's dangerous, but, when Charon's around the danger lightens a bit. He won't even let me fall down, without trying to save me.

Getting my balance back, I start to walk. Charon lets go of my arm and silently, the four of us trudge onwards. The rain doesn't show much sign of letting up, but that's fine with me. For right now, I sort of want to enjoy this. Fool around, and laugh, like we were supposed to the last night. Drops of rain, fall all over us. Smiling, I look over at Charon. He has a look in his eye, a look, befitting the awkward silence.

"Charon?"

He looks at me, and I move closer to him.

"Do you know, how we're going to blow up the fort?"

Shaking his head, Charon sighs.

"No, and Fat Man's aren't easy to come by. What happened to yours?"

Pouting I stick my tongue out.

"I lost almost everything in The Pitt. I've looked, but I haven't found another Fat Man since then."

"Is it still there?"

"Dunno. Didn't look. Spent most of my time alone there."

Charon nods. We're at a roads end, with no plans and no realistic way to put our plan into motion. There's still time, though. For all of us to figure it out. For us to come and make something happen. I can only hope, that whatever plan we make, however we decide to do this, works. I don't want to go on, knowing that I won't come out alive at the end. Charon and I…the way we've always wanted to live is so near. So close I can almost taste it. Losing that now, would be quite the irony.

By nightfall, the rain stops. It leaves everything with a gross and wet feel to it. Amata complains more than anyone in the group. Even me. It's getting annoying.

"How are we going to sleep? This is so gross! I'm not laying down in this."

"Princess Amata Creep, stop. It's not like it'll kill you, it's fucking mud. Wet dirt. Okay? Can you just…_chill_?"

"Easy for you to say, you've been out here for _years_."

"Yeah well I wasn't when I first got here that's for damn sure. I never bitched about having to sleep in disgusting places. Ask Charon."

Charon sighs as we all stop walking.

"She bitched."

Amata laughs and I glare at Charon. He shrugs, not feeling humored. If anything he seems more distracted now than ever. Boone's the only level-headed and alert person at this moment. Which, doesn't really say much for anyone now does it?

"Why not sleep underground?"

Charon offers a strange suggestion, and I give him a raised-eyebrow look. He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest.

"This is, Fort Bannister. Or rather, was. There's still underground bunkers."

Shocked, I look around. Small ruins remain, now that I notice them. Old foundations of one concrete building stands in a familiar place, and as I look to the ground, I notice not far away is the manhole entrance. I frown. I never really wanted, to come back here. This place, holds sour memories for me and Charon. Mostly, Charon, but my betrayal took place here. It would have been better, to have slept in the rain.

"Fort what?"

Amata asks, looking around, searching for something that isn't there.

"Bannister. An old…an old gang place. It's gone now."

"What happened to it?"

"I blew it up."

I know she doesn't believe me, but right now I don't care. Turning my back to her, I follow Charon as he moves the manhole from its place. Looking down, it's pitch black. There's always a bit of fright inside my stomach when I have to do things like this, but I figure camping underground is far better than out in the wet, Wasteland. Holding my breath for no good reason, Charon helps lower me down. Taking one hand off of the ladder, I turn on my Pip-Boy light. It's not too bright, but it lights up the general area around me. That's all I can really ask it to do, anyways.

One by one, Charon helps each of us down. First me, then Boone, and last Amata before he himself comes. Careful as always, he closes the manhole after he begins to climb the ladder down. We're safe as safe can get down here. I mean, unless you've known about Fort Bannister you wouldn't know about the underground bunker. I still don't want to be here, though.

"Turn on your light."

I say to Amata, as Charon jumps from the ladder and stands beside me. She listens, and the extra light is welcome.

"Alright come on."

Leading everyone, I stop at the first room I find. There's old bunk beds and hell, we can even start a small fire in here to warm up. There really is no use in looking for another place to sleep. One has been presented to us and it would be quite rude to not take it.

"This is fine."

I say as I walk in. Instantly, I want to remove my wet clothes and set them somewhere to dry. Searching within old lockers, I find a big blanket. Suitable.

"Charon, can you make a fire in here?"

He nods. The extra light will be a big help, too. Once I figure out where he's putting the fire, I grab a mattress. Charon's lighting it in the far corner of the room, furthest to the door. Just for privacy, I shut the door. The smoke can leak out through the vents, and generally we have all we need for the night. As Charon gathers bits of things, and breaks up a small desk, I bring the mattress over.

"To lay on."

I tell him. Amata and Boone can take the other bunk bed, furthest from the fire. Tonight, I want to pretend like I have some privacy with him. Once the fire gets started, everyone has the same idea but doesn't know how to start it. Boone has some cans in his hands, and I notice it's Pork N' Beans. Fine by me, food is food. Amata, on the other hand, turns her nose up but says nothing.

Being the first to start the idea, I hand Charon my blanket.

"Hold this up?"

With no hesitation he does. Behind it, I take off my wet clothes and drape them close to the fire, over a broken steel bedpost. Charon wraps the blanket around my naked body, keeping me covered from prying eyes. I.e. Boone. After I sit down, Charon begins to take off his leather armor. He sets it down beside my things, standing only in his boxers and black shirt. Boone and Amata have already discarded their own wet clothes. Boone sits only in boxers, and Amata in the white tank and shorts we're accustomed to wearing beneath vault suits. Before I know it, we're all quietly roasting cans by the warm fire, drying off, and Charon and I sit peacefully on the mattress. Maybe, tonight won't be so bad.

"You know what I miss?"

I say, my voice echoing in the small room.

"What?"

Amata, of course, answers.

"Sweetrolls."

"Oh…yeah, I do too."

Licking my lips I smile and remember their sweet delicious taste.

"What about the G.O.A.T, what did you get?"

"I got Marriage Counselor."

Amata bursts out laughing as Charon and Boone are a bit lost to our conversation. Boone more than Charon, since I've told him this before.

"You were on track to a supervisory position, weren't you?"

"Yeah but I think the test was rigged because of my dad. You remember how it was for me."

"Oh yes, the daughter of the Overseer, so hard, Amata. So very, very hard."

Charon leans over and gently pushes the cans out of the fire. I can't wait to eat mine, even though I know I won't eat all of it. I've been starting to give most of my food to Charon. He needs it more, anyways.

"It was! I was picked on, tormented, harassed."

"Followed by everyone, liked, popular, safe, loving father."

"Dez, you don't understand. It always wasn't that easy. When I first started…well liking boys, I never got to be alone. I never got to do much of anything, all because of my dad."

"Wow, wish I had that problem."

I also wish I had a beer, too. Neither one is going to happen. Charon puts his arm around me, and I lean into his chest. Glancing over at Amata, I get a quick glimmer of jealousy in her eyes. Is she really developing feelings for Charon? I mean, I know I picked up on something but…to actually think she likes him is hard to comprehend.

"I wish you saw things from my point of view."

"Hey does that mean you're still a virgin?"

Everyone's eyes are on Amata. She plays with her hands, a nervous twitch shared among all vault-dwellers from 101 I think. I'm just dying to hear her answer.

"Well…yeah I mean…it wasn't…"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not, Dez. I'm really, really not."

For a minute, I feel bad about something. Not sure, what it is yet. Reaching over I grab my can of food and decide to make it a fast night. I want everyone asleep. Even I don't want to talk to Charon anymore.

"Maybe you should have been kicked out then, instead of me."

I mutter, knowing she can just barely hear me. The tone sets the mood, and she knows better than to give a snide reply. But I'm right, you know. Maybe Amata should have been the one, to leave the vault. I should have been in her place, and she in mine. A vestal virgin do-gooder from Vault 101 here to save the Capital Wasteland tells a better story, than Dezbe. Dezbe, who at sixteen slept with Butch DeLoria in a storage closet. Who didn't have much of a relationship with her father, have any friends, or feel very well-liked. Whereas Amata shares all the traits of the saint this world needs. Not some emotionally unstable and battered woman running around hacking everyone to bits and pieces. Maybe even, had she left instead of me, Charon would be a lot happier. Not having to worry so much, Amata doesn't need attention like I do. Just feed her and let her out of her cage once in a while and I bet she's all happy. Picking at my food while everyone eats, I wonder if someone above was laughing or drunk when they switched Amata and I.

Eating about half the can, I decide I'm not hungry anymore. Tapping Charon's arm, I put it in front of his face. He looks at me, but takes the food offering.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

I say, just to add a bit of comfort so he knows I'm not starving myself. A can and a half of food, isn't going to give Charon much nourishment. When we go back to our new home, I'll be sure to help cook something. That is, if I can ever learn to work a stove. Last time I attempted to do that was in Megaton. I put a pot of things on the stove, and told it to cook. Since then, I haven't tried. They don't listen so why bother?

"This is disgusting."

Amata says as she finishes her food.

"Well, you ate it, so you're learning to scavenge. Welcome to the Capital Wasteland. What you're feeling is unsatisfied hunger and you will be best friends out here. Love it."

Amata glares at me, and Boone grazes her thigh. Since when did they pair up?

"Where's this sunny disposition coming from, Dezbe?"

Shaking my head I motion for a cigarette. Charon starts to look for the pack and I hope so bad, they aren't wet. Oh, yay they're not. I smile as Charon lights two, one for me, one for him. Boone has his own, there's no real need to share now is there? Inhaling the smoke, it calms my nerves and makes me relax. Closing my eyes I sit up with the blanket still around me, and lean in towards the fire.

"I miss Jonas."

I say, actually meaning that. Amata grows quiet.

"Why'd you wake me up that day, anyways? You could have just let them grab me and kill me. Wasn't your business."

I'm truly curious to know this. Amata woke me up all sorts of frazzled the day my dad left. We never really spoke, so I don't know why she did that for me. In a way she saved my life, and in a way it's because of her I'm here now. I just don't want to give her _all_ if any, credit. Glancing over I see she's staring into the fire, really thinking about this. That or she's cold and I have the only blanket and I'm not sharing. Fuck sharing.

"Because…I couldn't let you die, Dez. I know…I know we never talked much, and I know we never really got to be friends but…but I couldn't condone my father killing you. You didn't do anything, you were sleeping and had no prior knowledge to anything that happened. You were innocent, like Jonas."

"…What's really fucked about it all, Amata, is that the vault was opened before."

"What?"

Nodding, I toy with my cigarette.

"Don't you remember Old Lady Palmer telling you this? It was during the whole riot in there when I had to come back. Plus it was on your dad's terminal. I knew the vault had been opened when I was like, fourteen."

"Because you kept hacking the terminals, which was against vault rules! And wait, how do you know what Old Lady Palmer said to me?"

"…Because I was there."

"Well I wasn't paying attention. But, the vault was opened before? How?"

Shrugging, I shake my head.

"Dunno. Jonas' mom went on some expedition. She and the group reported the findings to your dad. Plus me and my dad were let in so, that whole 'No one ever leaves, no one ever enters' thing is bullshit. I did both."

"You also left a string of mayhem behind when you left."

Tossing my cigarette into the fire, I feel Charon's chest graze against my back. Amata has a conflicting tone in her voice, one that says she wants to, well, get into an argument really. So I accept, narrowing my eyes at her.

"What do you mean?"

"When you left everything fell apart! People wanted to go, people wanted to stay, my dad…Dez you and James made him go absolutely insane! He was so worried about how people would be getting inside now, because two of the residents had escaped. If you…if your dad hadn't left like that, we'd all be still inside."

How dare she. How _fucking_ dare she. This is from the same person, who asked for my help, who made me go back to the vault, then kicked me out again. I had no idea what my father was planning, so how was I to stop it? It's not my fault her dad went batshit crazy on something unimportant.

"My dad left for a cause he believed in. Your dad went insane. There's a difference."

"You'd have to be insane, to leave the comfort of the vault back then, to come out here."

"Oh, and you're acting like you didn't want to."

"Because the vault isn't the same. It's nothing like it used to be."

"Amen for that."

"Look just because you were out casted and hated it doesn't mean everyone else was. That's still my home."

"I know, every time you leave to let the door hit you on the way out, I see it on your back."

Amata knows she's fighting an uphill battle here. Deep down, she knows she has no argument against me, what she or her dad did to me, or what anyone else in the vault did. In the end, I endured and survived more, so therefore I win. Easy as that. Looking away from her, I pull up my Pip-Boy to start tinkering with it. I've always had a knack for electronics, and it helps keep my mind focused on something. Pushing buttons and codes, I view different things and rename certain things into swearwords. I always reset it back, but at the same time I wonder how funny it would be to look at it in a battle and see 'Buttface' or 'Shitstain' in place of 'Citadel Ruins' or 'Megaton'. Pretty confusing.

"Stop clicking that thing, it's annoying."

"Out here it'll be your best friend when you're alone."

"What?"

I shrug, still toying with it.

"You're not following me forever, Amata."

Getting bored, I put down my Pip-Boy and stare at the fire. Charon and Boone have been out of the conversation, and therefore, quiet. Amata sighs loudly, and I glare at her. Boone coughs loudly, and it takes my attention from Amata.

"So, Boone. Why here? Why leave New Vegas?"

Boone puts his head upwards. He looks at me, and sighs.

"Because I couldn't stay any longer."

"Why?"

"…Someone a lot like you came into town. A Courier. He was ambitious, brave, foolish, and for some time, my partner. I followed his choices and decisions, despite that they were sometimes questionable. He had four choices at one point, to side with the NCR, Legion, Mr. House or himself. The Courier, chose to take New Vegas alone. He disbanded the NCR and Legion, and ran Vegas in a way it was never run before. Mostly, there were no problems, but…but I couldn't stay. Seeing, the city that I once met my wife in, being run by someone no older than you and seeing my old tribe falter under him…I had to leave. Many, did the same. Raul, myself, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, we all left. To find new lives, new purposes, and new identities. One day, though, I'd like to go back. Maybe, when all is said and done, and I've found peace with everything."

A Courier like me, huh? Behind me, Charon lays down and stares into the fire. We make brief eye contact, before he looks away.

"Like me, huh?"

I ask, wishing I had a beer.

"He was. You'd have to meet him."

"Meh. Not my style. I don't like people who remind me of myself."

"Fair enough."

Aside from mine and Amata's bickering, the night isn't filled with conversation. Charon's quiet, and for good reason I hope. Least, I hope he's not mad at me.

"Well, this is really fun and all but I'm going to bed."

Amata says, standing up. Boone silently follows her lead, while Charon and I watch. They walk over to the far bunk beds, on the other side of the room. Leaving Charon and I virtually alone on our mattress by the fire. Taking the initiative, I flatten the blanket over us, and lie beside him. His arms wrap around me, more out of pattern than instinct. Silently, quietly, we wait until Boone and Amata are peacefully sleeping.

"Hey, Charon?"

Sitting up, it doesn't matter to me if the deep breathing on the far end of the room means they're sleeping or not. I just want to talk to Charon. On my knees, I sit with them pointing at his stomach. He looks up at me, tired and curious.

"Hm?"

"Tell me what's wrong. I know something's been bothering you. Is it me?"

Charon shakes his head. Using his arm as a pillow he lays on his side. He looks past me, into the fire.

"No. No, it's not you."

"Then what is it."

Sighing, Charon sits up. Taking a cigarette from a dry pack, he lights it. The way he's sitting blocks Boone from seeing my naked body, that is, if he's even awake. I think Charon had this planned.

"Dez…it's…difficult for me to explain."

"Why? Is everything okay?"

"I do not know how. It's like…I am still trapped within the confines of my training when it comes to this."

I light my own cigarette and stroke the side of his face. He's not looking at me, in fact, I don't think he wants to.

"It's alright, just try."

"It isn't that simple, Dez."

I decide to take the stronghold and just openly ask.

"It's your past, huh?"

He looks at me, shocked.

"Last night, you mumbled in your sleep about Ahzrukhal. Then today you were pretty solemn. It's not hard to connect the dots, Charon."

Looking away, Charon takes a deep breath on his cigarette. When he exhales, it's all smoke.

"At night, I have dreams. Memories of incidents before the war and during. I'm helpless in them, when I have been helpless very few times in my life. They frighten me most nights. I don't know, what to do about them. Or why, why now they're bothering me."

"Maybe it's because…now you can feel it. Now, you're an emotional being, a person, and it's the only time it's been able to surface."

"Perhaps."

"Do you think of this place?"

Charon looks around the interior of the room. He stares at the door, before nodding his head.

"Yes. I do."

"Why are you scared of them?"

Putting out his cigarette, Charon looks at me. In his eyes I see something, that I've never seen before. He's scared, truly scared, and the images of what he's done, things he won't tell me, swim in his blue, blue eyes.

"Dez I…"

Without warning, Charon falls into my chest. He rests his head between my breasts, as my cigarette falls from my fingers. His arms reach up, gripping my back for comfort, for support. Tenderly, I wrap my arms around him as I feel the wetness from his eyes, his tears.

"I'm frightened of what it is I'll do, if I ever lose control. If I ever, somehow regress to the person I was within my training. I was violent, horribly so, unnecessarily violent, Dez. When someone executed an order to kill I did so and I did so gruesomely. What will become of you, if I happen to be that man again?"

Stroking his head, holding him, I know to use a soft voice.

"Nothing. Nothing will happen to me, because you'd never hurt me."

"I have before. I obeyed orders to."

"And that doesn't count. You won't hurt me, because even under contract, you couldn't kill me."

"It frightens me, still."

"I know, but it'll all be alright in the end. You'll see."

His hands grip my ribs, holding securely as if I'd float away somewhere. With the fire warming my back, and Charon leaning on my front, I've never felt so warm before.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Dez. There's things, that might make you look at me with disgust."

"I've killed children, Charon, and never have I once looked at you in disgust. Whatever you have in your past, whatever you want to share with me, won't make me look at you any different than I do now."

"You know of Ahzrukhal."

"But I don't blame you for it."

"You don't know of others though, Dez."

"When you feel ready, you can tell me."

Charon sighs, hiding his face. I know now, he needs me. He can't admit it, he can't show it, but it's a woman's intuition that feels it. He's all I have, and I'm all his.

"A former employer, had me kill his own son."

"Why?"

"He gave no reason. He wanted it to be done in front of him. So I did. The boy…wasn't right, Dez. He wasn't mentally stable nor physically capable of caring for himself. My employer, decided it would be cheaper to dispose of him, rather than let him live. We blamed the death on an intruder. As well, I killed him."

"If the boy was like that, maybe it was a mercy killing."

"I've tried to tell myself that Dez but the look in my employer's eyes told me otherwise. Lately, the thought has been hanging in my mind. If a father can so mercilessly order that upon his own son, than what man was I to simply obey?"

"A controlled man, not responsible for any blood on his hands back then."

"I hope."

Eventually, Charon drifts to sleep. He rests his head still, against my chest. Like the night before I hold him close. I kiss the top of his head, and I support him, just like he's supported me, all these years.


	54. The Ghosts of My Past

(Charon)

That night, I had no dreams. There were no memories, no haunting images, it was simply thick and black. I slept, better than I have, in weeks. When I feel conscious, the first thing I sense is Dez. I don't have to open my eyes, to know how we fell asleep, and how we still are. I feel her skin on my face, her arms around me, and her head resting just above my own. She held me the entire night, and I can't understand, what it is she sees in me.

Opening my eyes, I gently pull myself from her. I don't want to wake her, or anyone else. Sleeping, may be the last bit of peace anyone has these days. We'll be closer to Fort Independence within the week, and closer to warfare, too. If anyone else has any drip of sanity left, I want them to enjoy it. No use, in going into a battle, with no mind. Because, then it isn't much of a battle now, is it?

Quietly, quickly, I dress. I'm not leaving Dez or the traveling circus behind. We're in Fort Bannister, and although this place holds bitter memories, they're memories nonetheless. When you live as long as I have, places where things took place become scarce. I'd like to remember, while I'm here, because the actions of the past are what brought me to the present. Looking at Dez as I finish putting my armor on, I can't help but feel a bit appreciative of all my past endeavors. After all, had one thing been changed, our paths never would have crossed. It's mind-boggling, to think of things that way.

Deciding to leave the door open, I exit the room. If anyone, Dez, should wake and call for me, it'd be easier to hear. My boots clink against the metal floor, as I walk down the halls. I don't go too far, there's not much I want to explore. Simply remembering these halls, is enough. Commander Jabsco, he never let me go to the aboveground bunker. He told me once when I asked, that it was because he didn't want to risk me running away. Jabsco, never fully understood the power he had with me. I'm glad he didn't, glad that he was foolish, because things would have been far, far worse.

I was mainly his errand boy. Running around here and there, and making sure no one stepped out of line. My main duty, was to keep him safe, as many of his understudies wanted him dead. He didn't understand how to utilize my training, nor did he have the experience to handle me. Within two weeks, I was quite bored and restless. Jabsco knew this, and soon came to not trusting me. It was his mistake, since I was bound by contract to him. The day that Dez came here, looking for me, I was proud. Proud, and happy, that she had come back. Although, back then, I didn't know what it was I was feeling.

What I did know back then, was nothing short of anger, and resentment. Dezbe did what she had to do, to spare her own life and eventually ours. I see that now, but at the time I couldn't. Placing my hand on a door, I stare at it as if it holds all the answers to all the secrets of the world. Dez and I, have been through so much together. I hate myself, for ever making her think, I never once cared for her. In the past, I did that so much. I didn't mean to, I simply…simply never understood or felt anything. I was the perfect example of the marble man. The man, they speak of, in the tale _The Praise of Folly_.

"Charon?"

A female voice comes from my left. Calmly, I take my hand from the door and look over. I see Amata before me, standing only in her underwear. The white tank top, and boxer-like shorts. I wonder why she hasn't dressed. We stare at one another. This girl confuses me to no end. If she wants something, simply ask. I do not see the point, in wordlessly following me.

"What is it?"

I ask her, hoping she'll speak soon.

"Charon I have to ask you something."

Sighing, I can tell that my time remembering is over. I must entertain the needs of a naïve vault-dweller. It seems that's been my job for years.

"Yes?"

"Would you ever keep me safe, like you keep Dezbe safe?"

"I would prevent you from dying yes, but only if Dez was safe first."

Amata shakes her head as she wraps her arms around herself. She looks as if she's about to cry. Did I say something wrong?

"No, no I mean…forget it."

With that she turns away, leaving me confused. What did I do? I hear her stifle a sob, and feel bad for some reason. I'm sure I hadn't done anything.

"Amata, don't…don't cry."

She turns back to look at me. Women are still confusing. I'm still learning what it means to be an emotional being, but the learning process of how women are is still a vague subject. One minute I'm Dez's favorite person and the next she wants nothing to do with me. It happens quite often it seems, too.

"What?"

"I said don't cry. Why are you awake?"

She walks back to me, her head hanging. Shrugging she keeps her arms wrapped around her body. It's almost like she's ashamed. Has she been peeping again?

"Dez was talking in her sleep, and it woke me up."

"She does that."

"How does she do it?"

"What? Talk in her sleep? Everyone does it."

Amata shakes her head, now angry. See what it is I'm saying?

"No I mean…I mean she gets people to like her. She…she…has you."

I understand now. I understand, and feel a bit sorry. Had I done something to lead Amata on? Moreover, what is she thinking? And lastly, has the world gone ripe with madness? I'm a ghoul. Perhaps a bit more fleshy ghoul, but a ghoul just the same. Is this a vault-girl's fantasy or something?

"Dez has me, because she chose me. It goes no deeper than that."

"Yes it does because…"

"Because what?"

"Because…you sleep with her. Not like that, either, it's just…just that, you two at night…you look like you need her. Why? What does she have that no other girl has? I don't understand it she was never really desired in the vault."

Shaking my head I decide quickly this is not a conversation to be having at all, let alone so early in the day.

"Amata, it would be wise to leave it at your imagination. I'm returning to the room now, are you?"

"Yeah…"

Pushing past, I sternly lead the way back to the room. There's no more time for argument or questions, I make sure of that. Amata's feelings are nothing more than a vault fantasy. I am the man, her father would not approve of. It is as simple as that. Entering the room, I'm relieved to see Dez still sleeping. It must still be before sunrise, because unless she's drinking, Dez is usually up by morning. Looking back at Amata as she walks through the door, closing it behind her, I see a sense of sadness in her eyes. Without wasting anymore time, I lie down next to Dez, still clothed in armor. I'll lay beside her, until she rises. Patiently, I'll wait.


	55. Why Don't You and I?

(Dez)

"Gob!"

I'm so happy to see him! I've spent the _whole_ day urging everyone to hurry their slow asses up, just so we could get to Megaton. Gob's not surprised to see me, my random departures and arrivals are something of the norm to him now. Zack stands at his feet, as they both wade in the puddle in the center of Megaton.

"Hey, kid. Back so soon?"

"We found the house, Gob. It's perfect."

I whisper in his ear, still holding him. A tug on my pants causes me to pull away and look down. Zack stares up at me, happy.

"Hi again!"

Zack says, and I'm all smiles and joys. Bending down I pick him up, returning his smile.

"Wow, you've gotten heavy. You been behaving I hope?"

"Yup. Daddy made me a new car!"

Proudly, Zack shows me the blue toy car he has in his hands. It's shined and polished, the wood almost new. I kiss his head, admiring the toy.

"It's really nice. How fast does it go?"

"Really fast watch this!"

Zack hops from my arms and shows me how it can fly across the water, it goes so fast. Gob doesn't mind when Zack falls in, returning wet and muddy.

"Boone, why don't you show Amata around Megaton?"

Charon suggests behind me, and I hear a grunt in agreement. Zack comes back as I crouch down to talk to him.

"It goes _so_ fast, water can't even support it. It _glides_."

I smile and laugh, patting his head.

"It sure does. Can it do anymore cool tricks?"

Pouting, Zack shakes his head.

"No. Daddy says he's going to put guns on it so then it can defeat the bad guys. Isn't that what you do? Fight the bad guys?"

Gob's been telling stories about me I see. Looking up, I give Gob a look and he smiles back. Charon crouches beside me, his arms resting on his knees.

"That's exactly what I do. But you can't tell anyone, it's really super secret."

"You mean…not a lot of people know?"

"Nope. I'm a secret agent working for the good guys. The baddies have spies _all_ around, so we're going to make up code words."

His face lights up at that. Kids like that kind of stuff. You know, secret spies and whatnot. At least, kids like Zack do. Eager, he sits in front of me. Putting my butt on the dirt, I lean in close to him.

"Right now, we're going to fight the Evil Monsters. That's what we'll call them. They're hiding in a secret lair that only we know how to get into."

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Oh yes, very dangerous."

Concerned, Zack grabs my hand.

"I'll protect you! They won't ever hurt you!"

I laugh at his courage. He stares at the scars across my face and the ones that decorate my upper body. His small face, shows childish anger and eagerness, against the baddies who caused them.

"I won't get hurt. Uncle Charon is my partner-in-justice. He's super good at keeping me safe."

Folding his arms as he sits, Zack stares at Charon.

"I think he's stupid because he made you sad."

Gob and I burst out laughing. Charon's suddenly become the target of Zack's anger and I find the entire situation simply comedic. Charon knows we're all kidding around, and that Zack's the only one taking this seriously. I've never really seen, though, how Charon is with children.

"I don't like when you come back hurt. It makes me sad, too. But I'll protect you now, so it's okay."

Patting Zack's head, I give him a smile.

"I know you will. But you have to stay here, I'm giving you a special job. And you have to promise me, you're going to do it and do it well. It's the most important job of anything"

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow when I leave, I need you to stay behind and make sure the bad guys don't come here. If they see you, they'll know you're working for me, and run away scared. I want to come back to this town in-tact, Zack. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes!"

"You know, Uncle Charon here could probably teach you some interesting things. I bet if you ask him, he'll teach you how to fight."

"Does it mean you're my aunt, if Charon is my uncle, and you two fight the bad guys together?"

"I suppose it does."

"That's good. Uncle Charon can you really teach me things?"

The three of us look up at Gob who throws his hands in the air in surrender.

"Go for it. Kid's gotta learn somehow."

Zack cheers, and bounds over to Charon. They talk in secret-agent whispers, and Charon begins by showing him how to make a proper fist. Standing up, I light two cigarettes. One for me, one for Gob. We watch as Charon plays mentor, and talk softly.

"He's growing up so fast, Gob."

"He's lookin' just like Nova, too."

"You know, eventually, he's going to want to get out of Megaton and explore. What happens then?"

Shrugging, Gob smokes his cigarette and carefully watches Charon as he teaches his only son to spar.

"Hopefully by then, he'll have learned from the two best survivalists I know, and I won't have to worry."

"What are you getting at?"

"Dez, I ain't blind. I know Zack's gettin' older every day, jus' like I ain't gettin' any younger. When you two are done liberating the land and all that violence, drop a line to Megaton. We'll come up there to see you, and I'd appreciate it if you took the time, to teach him how to shoot a gun an' defend himself. Don't want him learnin' it from anyone else."

I never thought of having kids myself. It was never something I felt I'd be mature or responsible enough for. Even if my biological clock ticks as it does in all women, the idea of raising my own is impossible. Charon's sterile, and won't be able to provide me with one. But strangely, I'm alright with that. I think, if Gob brings Zack around once in a while, and I get to play and have fun with him, then it'll be easier. When I start getting older, and wanting kids of my own, having Zack will fill the temporary void I know that comes with that ticking clock. Then, when I get too exhausted, I can go to sleep and give him back to Gob. Can't really give back your own kids when you get too tired.

"I'd love to teach Zack everything I know. From the looks of it, Charon too."

Charon has Zack punching the palms of his hands. With each small 'slap' of Zack's fist into Charon's open hands, Charon coaches him on how to hit better and more efficiently. There's no better teacher for Zack, than Charon.

"Ever think of having your own? If so, don't. You two ain't really responsible enough to have a kid. You'd leave it in the Wastes somewhere."

"Gob, I wouldn't do that. First off, I'd probably leave it somewhere in the underground metro system. And secondly, having Zack around is enough to fulfill any womanly wants I may later have to bear children."

"I'm glad to hear that. World won't ever be prepared for suttin' like you two combined. Shit. That'd…that's scary even to me."

"He'd be a handsome, debonair, anti-hero, with blue eyes."

Gob looks at me, humored.

"You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"You really forget how quiet it gets out there. I have _more_ than enough time to plan this out. I'd want my son to have my mom's hair though. Charon and I are dark red-heads almost, I want brown for my kid."

"Maybe thinkin' of a kid you ain't never gonna have isn't a good idea. Might get needy and whatnot. Besides aren't there bigger things to worry about?"

"Sure there are. But I worry about those things all the time. Sometimes I like to divulge into my womanly fantasies."

Gob laughs at me and I give him a look.

"So long as you don't actually pull it off, I guess. Dunno what I'd do if you came here holdin' a kid in one hand an' a gun in the other. Think of a name for your imaginary baby."

"Charon Part Two."

More laughter and I smile at Gob. Of course, that really wouldn't be my child's name if, god forbid, I had one. Once I name something, though, I tend to love it. Once I love it I tend to want it. Giving something like that a name, would mean at some point in my time I expect it to be given to me. I act like something like that's a present. I gave up any shot I had at a 'normal' life, when I left the vault for good. It was fine by me then, and it's fine by me now. I don't see myself as 'nurturing' anyways. Plus, I don't know how to be a mom. I'd probably cry myself if it started to cry.

But looking at Charon teach Zack how to handle his small fists, I can't help but wonder, has Charon ever thought about his own family? Having one, I mean. I don't think so, because Charon…well, he's always either thinking of me or what we have to do and lately, his past. I don't think there's time for him to have such foolish pipe dreams. He's interacting with Zack well, but then again, it's easy to be good with kids when they're not your own. If it ever comes up in conversation, I'll ask. But, I doubt it will and I'm not going out of my way for it.

"Gob I need your help."

I say, keeping my voice low and hardly above a whisper. There's a lot of eavesdroppers in Megaton, and what I'm planning, can't be heard.

"What is it?"

"Gob, I need you to make me some explosives. I need them to be strong enough to take down a concrete structure, with a hand-held detonator."

"Dez, I can't make something like that."

"If you can make a pre-war truck run, with scrap metal and fix a gun with a wrench, you can do this for me."

I can feel the worry seeping from Gob. Asking him to make such a dangerous thing is a risk, but I have no idea where else to ask. Anyone else would raise an eyebrow and be suspicious of it. Gob, he knows whatever I may need this for, it's to do the right thing. He knows, that my plans although seemingly cruel in the short-run, are always for the greater good in the future. Hearing him sigh, I see him look down at the dirt.

"When do you need this by?"

"By the time I leave tomorrow afternoon."

"Alright. Take Zack with you for the day. I'll do my best, and I don't want him near if anything were to happen."

"Thank you."

Walking over to Zack and Charon, I fold my arms and smile down. Zack looks up at me, stopping his 'training'.

"Hey Zack, you have a BB Gun?"

Lowering his small fists, Zack nods.

"Yeah but I don't know how to use it."

"Want me to teach you?"

He answers by smiling wide, and dashing off up the hill. Charon stands up, looking at me.

"What are you doing?"

"We're taking Zack for the day. I'll explain later, just trust me."

Curious, Charon looks back at Gob. He shrugs, knowing full well I'll tell him as soon as I get a chance. Charon trusts my planning, he knows that even though they're poorly planned, they somehow work. Putting my cigarette out in the dirt, I stand beside Charon and wait for Zack to come back from Moria's.

"Dez?"

"Hm?"

"I like kids."

I look at him, surprised, and shocked.

"You mean you like Zack."

"That too. But I think I might actually like them."

A door slamming above our heads is a nice diversion. Zack's small feet echo and patter down the steel streets, as he excitedly makes his way back down. I hope Charon drops this. I don't know, how I'd react if he said the world 'family' aloud or even suggested we adopt or at least attempt something. I don't have the heart or the courage right now, to tell him a family isn't what I think I want. It's great, I guess, for people who live here. But not for me, who never has a permanent home, and can't stay in one settlement for very long. I can't bring a child into this world, without structure. I'm too scared to, and it wouldn't be fair to my kid, to have a mother like me. Frankly, I wouldn't make a very good one. Although the image of me with a Nova-like pregnant belly does make me smile to myself.

Zack returns with his gun in his hands, and two metal containers of BB's. I smile, because when I was four years older than him, I got my first BB Gun and I was just as excited to learn how to shoot it.

"Are you really going to teach me?"

"Only if you promise to listen to whatever it is me and Uncle Charon tell you."

"Yes!"

"Alright, then come on."  
Taking the gun from him, I sling it over my back and walk with him and Charon up the hill. There's no safe place in Megaton, to teach a six-year-old how to shoot. Or is Zack still five? I'm not sure, I don't know his birthday. Anyways I figure we can take him to the outside of the gates, and show him out there. At least then if he hits something, it's either no big deal or worth hitting. Then the citizens won't complain and Gob won't be very distracted with it all. And at the same time, I can safely talk to Charon about what it is I'm planning in my head.

"Alright do you know how to put the BB's in?"

I ask, crouching down and handing Zack the gun. He shakes his head at me. Damnit Gob, you can't give a kid a gun and then not show him how to use it.

"Okay, here, watch and be _very_ careful."

"Okay."

Slowly, I show Zack the proper way to load the metal balls inside. Charon looks on, with his arms folded over his chest, and every once in a while scanning the area for enemies.

"I think I know now."

Zack says as he finishes. To my surprise the kid caught on quick, and loaded it up his first try. I'm not sure where he gets his swift learning from, maybe Gob, maybe Nova, but neither one of them were great in the weapons department.

"Now, Uncle Charon is going to teach you what to do from here."

It's better Charon show him how to shoot his first gun. Not because I don't want to show him, I do, but because Charon is a lot better marksmen than I am. With Zack being so new to the field, I'd rather him learn off of him. Standing, I move back and let Charon take it from here. Lighting another cigarette I take over the duty of watching for danger as the two of them talk and Charon shows him first how to safely handle a weapon. See I wouldn't have done that. I would have gone straight to shooting and then Zack would have shot his eye out. Imagine trying to explain that one to Gob. He'd be less than thrilled, I assume.

Before I know it, though, the familiar soft popping of a BB Gun fills my ears. Charon's a quick teacher, and Zack's a fast learner. I see the happiness light up on Zack's face, as he realizes he's just properly shot his first gun. I smile back at him, finding myself pretty proud. I can see, Charon's proud too.

"I'm going to set up targets and I want you to take your time aiming at them."

He tells Zack, going over and gathering some old tin cans. After propping up the cans and giving Zack a quick rundown on aiming techniques, Charon comes and stands by my side as we look on. I feel something coming from him, something strange, so I quickly tell him my plan to divert the subject.

"Gob's making us explosives to use at Fort Independence. We're going to infiltrate, and plant them. Someone needs to wait on the outside for my signal and the detonator. That or I can detonate them from the inside, but I don't want to risk losing anyone."

I give him the short-summary of it, basically. Putting out my cigarette, Charon lights one and looks at me.

"Have you thought about how we're going to get inside to plant these bombs?"

"No, but there's got to be a way. Nothing is impossible."

"That is true. In more ways than one."

I look at him, shoving my hands in my pockets and raising my eyebrow.

"Dez I have nothing to offer you. All I have is the gun on my back and the armor on my body. I know at some point, you expect more. A normal life, perhaps even a family. If you want it, then…I'll do my best to find a solution and offer it to you."

Shaking my head, I nudge Charon a bit with my elbow.  
"I gave up the hopes of a normal life when I left the vault. Families out here, don't last long. And no offence but we're a lot better off as vigilantes than parents. I don't know how to raise a stupid kid."

"It comes natural. I'm simply saying, I wouldn't mind. I know how to work hard, so we'd have enough money. Between us we have the medical experience of any Wasteland doctor, and there are places we can go that are safe."

"It seems you're the one who wants a family here, Charon. Cap for your thoughts?"

He inhales on his cigarette as Zack takes a shot at one of the cans. Charon, tell me, what is it you're thinking?

"I just thought I'd let you know, that when all is said and done, and there's no one left to fight, I'd be content and happy, with providing for a family. I never had the chance, to have one of my own or enjoy a mother or father. Maybe because of that I wouldn't be good at it, but there are far worse things we could do together."

I don't answer. There's no kind answer that's truthful, to be said. When all is said and done…I'd like that to be true. I'd like that, for the hope of never again having someone to fight. But the truth and reality is that just because we might defeat the Brotherhood once and for all, won't take away the fact that there's others out there. That there's still a chance the Enclave or the NCR could come here and do the same thing. If there is a period of harmony in my life after we finish at Fort Bannister, it'll be short-lived. Charon's not saying he really wants a family, and he's not saying he doesn't want one. He's saying he'd be happy either way, I think. But would I? As selfish as that sounds, I have to ask. Have to think, if I have the ability to be responsible for such a small and helpless thing for such a long time. And if I am, if it happens, then what about if another enemy rolls around? I simply can't say 'Here watch my kid goin' to fight the bad guys' and take off into the sunset. No. Right now, I think, there's too much at risk to think about family life. After all, anyone who dreams of having a peaceful time doing that out here, is batshit. Unless they're at Rivet City. Hey. I have an answer for him.

"Maybe. If we ever find ourselves in a settlement as safe and secure as Rivet City, I'll suggest letting you curse me for nine months. But before we even go there or talk about that, let's take some time for us."

"Us?"

I give him a look. Yes, 'us' stupid.

"We have some well-deserved time to ourselves coming up. Ditching Humpty and Dumpty and living in that shack alone, you know? Before we have any extravagant adventures, let's do that, first."

"I completely agree."


	56. Life is a Dream

(Charon)

Later, much later that night, Dez, Amata, Boone and myself sit in what once was Moriarty's. Quietly at a round table, Dez whispers her plan. Well, the remnants of it. Toying with the Dirty Water in my hand, I'm only half-listening. She told me this earlier before, and there's no need for me to hear it again. Boone tries to make a point, trying to tell Dez her plan isn't going to work, but Dez won't hear it. He has to learn once she's set on something, the only thing left to do is go along with it. It's why I try not to argue with her over her tactics, it gets me nowhere.

Amata remains quiet as well. While Dez and I were spending the hottest part of the day outside with Zack, her and Boone have been shifting and wandering around Megaton. Although a newbie here himself, he at least is familiar with it and was able to teach Amata about some things. She still has that vacant and lost look on her face though, and her eyes shine with the eyes of a brand new Wastelander. Figure she ought to ditch her Vault 101 suit before she becomes too much of a target. Of course, I don't say this to her. I don't want to say much to her, after our conversation at dawn. Amata, it seems, is even more confusing and unstable in her own way, than Dez. I don't want to get tangled in a mess. There's other things I care to think of.

One thing, was brought to my mind today. One thing, that, I hadn't given much thought to before. Having a family of my own. The initial idea was started back when I found Lily and Mackenzie. I'd since forgotten it but, for a while, returning to a woman and child who were happy to see me, was nice. At least, it _seemed_ like they were happy to see me. Mackenzie was, and either way that helps. Playing with Zack till sundown made the idea come back to life for me. I could tell, though, Dez wasn't too keen when I brought it up to her. I don't blame her much, anyways.

People like us, orphans really, who've never felt the hand of a mother's touch, go one of two ways. Either they're exceptionally amazing parents, or rather terrible ones. It's a fear that stays with you until you see the product you've helped create. Until you ultimately decide if or not you want a child, and see that child before your very eyes. When I told Dez I'd be okay with finding a way to start a family and having one, her eyes changed. She's scared of the thought, and for good reason, too.

Together with one another, our lives always seem to take us into the darkest corners of life. There's bright moments in snippets between these events, but still, it is no place for a child. Even out here, there are lines and boundaries. I would never want someone I helped create, witnessing or reliving the childhood I was given. I'm sure Dez has similar feelings towards that. Out here, a family is usually something rare to find and when it is found, they're found in safe areas. Places like Rivet City, Megaton, and smaller settlements throughout the Wasteland. There's never a 'wandering family' as the dangers are too high. I cannot imagine, the pain that comes with losing a child. It's understandable, why there's hesitation in Dez's voice about this.

If there ever is a time, though, when all is quiet for us, and when we've finally found a permanent place of residence, I'm sure Dez would warm up to the idea. Right now, we don't know if we'll even live past tomorrow and are unsure still if the shack we've found will make a long-term home. But I know eventually, as with all women, Dez will have the desire to procreate. It's a biological thing, and happens even in the most unlikeliest of places and people. Dez isn't your standard woman, but she is nearing thirty. By then, I suspect, her maternal instincts will kick in and perhaps maybe then she'll begin to pester me about a family. I don't know. I simply wanted her to know, if and when the time comes, I'll listen and go for it. Not having a family of my own, is a vice and a virtue. I never had worries, yet never had the stability. I want one because of that, and am hesitant like Dez because of that. Plus, there's no way just yet for me to give her a son or daughter. Personally I'd prefer a son, and I'm sure Doc Barrows could help us down the line. If we chose to do it, anyways.

"Hey you're being quiet."

Amata's voice, as it always does, breaks my solid concentration. I glance over to see her holding her half-full beer in her hands. She looks tired. This life certainly isn't for her.

"Thinking."

Boone and Dez are loudly, but not too loudly, discussing different ways to infiltrate the fort. With Boone's NCR background and Dez's history of doing this kind of thing, they're clashing on many levels. Boone, from what I hear, wants a strategic and well-planned attack. Whereas Dez, of course, wants to run in and make it a 'plant and dash' sort of thing. We're going to be sitting here a long time. Which is alright with me, I've rented the rooms upstairs and soon everyone in the saloon will be drunk. It's not like they care to listen, anyways.

"What are you thinking about?"

Amata is curious, but I see no harm in telling her. Perhaps if I do, she'll understand the seriousness of mine and Dez's relationship and find a new outlet for her 'feelings' and fantasies.

"A family."

"One you know?"

"The one I wish to start one day."

Her face is shocked but she quickly hides it. Dez and Boone can't hear the world around them, so I know this is not a big deal. I take a sip from my small glass of Whiskey. I hardly ever drink, but tonight, I feel as if it's safe enough to relax a bit. No one is about to have a shootout in the Megaton saloon, that's for sure.

"You and Dez want a family?"

Shrugging I light a cigarette and take another sip of my drink.

"We have yet to decide. It's just something that's been presented to us, and something to pass the time with thinking about."

"I thought your type couldn't have kids?"

"We can't, but I know of a good doctor."

Amata takes a long gulp of her beer and sets the now-empty bottle on the table. She stares at it, in disbelief.

"You know, having a family is a real commitment."

"Yes I'm aware."

"You'd be with Dez for a really, really long time. A decade or more."

"The thought of that doesn't bother me."

It feels as if she's almost trying to dissuade me from doing this. I suppose she is in her own harmless way, so I can't hold it against her.

"Have you thought of names?"

"Amata we have only hardly discussed it. There's more important things right now to take care of."

"Like what?"

"Like what we're doing tomorrow."

"I didn't know that anything was more important than starting a family."

Her words are both immature yet wise. In a way, she is right and in others, she's wrong. There aren't many things, that are more important than family life if say you're living in the comforts of a vault or Rivet City. However if you're wanted fugitives back from the dead going to destroy a base filled with your enemies, then yes, that is more important. Out here, especially with Dez and I, you have to take extra special care and precaution before making a commitment such as family. If we ultimately decide to have a child, we have to first make sure where we're living is not only safe, but also that no one wants us dead. It's a risk, to be a fugitive, and have a child. A risk I'm not willing to take.

"You'd understand there is if you allowed yourself to stop thinking along the lines of vault-life."

I tell her as I stand, smoking my cigarette and walking to the bar. I order a bottle of Whiskey and decide to simply carry it with me. I doubt I'll finish it before the night is through, and I can simply bring it along tomorrow. If anything it'll help me sleep. I don't want to wake tomorrow, tired, because I once again had memories from my past. That's another thing, I feel Dez and I need to battle, before we make a family. Having time to ourselves when this is over is vitally important. Give it another five years, or so, before we make any real plans. Either way, family or not, I'm happy to be with her.

Walking back to my chair I sit down. Dez glances at me, quickly before returning to the conversation she's having with Boone.

"I'm hungry."

Amata says, staring off at the small crowd around the bar. Reaching into my pocket, I drop a few caps in her hands.

"There's food here. Go buy some."

Having Amata in the group is a lot like having a child. One I'm not too fond of and one I wish would quickly grow up. Dez and I, are only pairing with them to simply help us in our raid on Fort Independence. We both know, when we least expect it, Amata will become useful to us. If not then we've lost nothing by allowing her to tag along. I'm hoping when this is over, she'll opt to return the vault and Boone will _hopefully_ go with her. From the way he's leaning in to talk to Dezbe, I'm highly doubting that.

Amata comes back with a bowl of Squirrel Stew. I haven't seen a squirrel in years, so I'm sure that's not squirrel meat. Either way, I figure it's better to not point this out to Amata. It would send her into a worried frenzy. I doubt she knows what a squirrel is, anyways.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Dez and I are earlier."

We did, too. We took Zack to the Brass Lantern and let him eat whatever he wanted. Of course he wanted Sugar Bombs and Gumdrops, which was fine by us. We sat around outside eating, congratulating him. Zack's a fast learner, and there's no doubt in my mind he'll be a strong survivor out here. He caught on faster than even I did with a gun. Then again I wasn't able to learn with a BB Gun, I had to learn with a real one and a live target. I'm sure if I was given tin cans and a BB Gun, I'd have caught on with a lot less stress.

"They sure are talking a lot."

Stubbing out my cigarette, I glance sideways at Amata. She watches Boone and Dez carefully as they're oblivious to the world.

"They're planning."

"Planning what? Their marriage?"

Look, Amata tried to make a joke. How cute.

"Amata are you aware of what is happening this time tomorrow night?"

I don't think she understands or knows of the severity of the situation. As I predicted, she shakes her head.

"I know we're going to some fort, but that's it. Aren't you and Dez fighting them?"

Sighing, I'm glad at least one of our performers in this traveling circus has some skill in combat. Having another person to protect and at this point, is utterly useless, is another story entirely. Opening my bottle of Whiskey, I take a sip. I like the burn of it against my throat.

"Amata tomorrow is an important day. Tomorrow the four of us attempt to infiltrate a base highly protected, and highly dangerous. We're taking on a small army, and it's a high-risk mission. Before we leave tomorrow, we're fitting you with a weapon and expecting you to use it."

Fear lingers on Amata's face, as she swallows a spoonful of her stew.

"…You…you mean we might not _live_ to see the day after tomorrow."

"There's a high chance of that, yes. But I don't suspect Dez, Boone or myself to be of much trouble. We've been on the battlefield and in fights, so there's a level of knowing for us. You, on the other hand…"

It's not wise of me to put such fear in Amata. Yet I'm hoping it'll work in a backwards way.

"I don't want to die a virgin. I don't want to die at all."

"Then don't. Stop being a coward like you were with the Deathclaw and quickly pick up on how to move. Tomorrow on the way I'll help you if you're serious. If not, don't follow us. You'll only get in the way."

"That's why we're here tonight, isn't it? A last celebration before we die?"

Actually that thought never crossed my mind. When I rented the rooms here for the night I was simply thinking it would be better than the common house. There's two available rooms, Boone and Amata in one, while Dez and I take the other. Staying in a place with bed and food was simply easier, although expensive. Amata simply gave it a morbid twist.

"No. No, it was just wiser to stay here than in the common house. There probably isn't four beds available there, anyways."

Taking another sip of my bottle, I peer over at Dez. Still in conversation with Boone, she doesn't notice me. I'm hoping, that once this is over he'll take himself and Amata off of our hands. It's been too long, since Dez and I were able to live without worry. The last time that happened, was in Rockopolis and even then, even then there was cause for concern.

"I don't know if I can go tomorrow, Charon."

I drink again, and I see Dez is doing the same. Since when did she purchase a bottle of vodka? Knowing her she did so when I wasn't looking. Last thing she wants is me nagging at her, but I figure tonight since we're in a semi-safe place, she can get as drunk as she wants. Radiation will heal whatever hangover she gets, and it'll ensure she sleeps well. Placing my bottle down I pour some into my cup. It simply looks better, to drink from a cup, than the bottle itself.

"Then don't, Amata. If you come and don't work, or even try, you're holding us all back. They'll be more of a risk that way."

"I only have tonight to make this choice, don't I?"

"We're leaving tomorrow afternoon. If you're so scared, don't come, it's simple."

"No, it's not. Because if I don't go, then…then I won't learn, will I? I won't know what it takes to survive out here, and if I stay then where am I going to go?"

"The vault is right up a nearby hill."

"I want to stay on the outside, and I have to learn how to live out here. But, but even if I stay in this settlement, then…I don't know the first thing about working to make caps. The revolt began before I was able to be eligible for job training in the vault."

"There's other ways to learn, aside from throwing yourself into a battle."

Slamming her fists on the table, she shocks everyone and makes the cups and bottles shake. Dez, Boone and myself look over at her, shocked and bewildered.

"Dez, how did you learn to survive?"

Taken aback and caught off guard, Dez stares blankly at Amata. Bringing the cup to my lips, I catch Dez's eye. She copies me, and drinks from her bottle.

"Uh…what?"

She looks at me, as if I'm the cause of the outburst. Burping slightly I shrug. It's been a many years, since I've drank this way. I'm not sure how it'll affect me so I should take caution. Then again, the smooth and burning sensation of the whiskey against my throat is something I've missed. Pre-war liquor, never tasted so good. Only a ghoul would be able to appreciate this, though, since no one else has been around. Whiskey is like wine, better with age. In my opinion, and this whiskey is ripe.

"How did you learn to live out here? Dez, I really need to know."

Looking up at Dez I see Boone sip his beer from the corner of my eye. It seems now, this has turned into an open conversation.

"Uh, well…I uh…what did I do?"

Being far smaller than myself and drinking as much, the liquor has a faster effect on Dez. She's coherent, yet tipsy. Enough where something stupid will make her laugh yet able to sober up if needed. I shrug as she looks at me, looking for an answer.

"It was three months before I met you. I don't know, either."

"Right, that's right. So how'd I do it? Well…hang on I can't remember uh, oh. Alright yeah. I just, swallowed hard and did it. Not much, to explain really. Just, shot at anything that came at me. Well, that didn't talk. Took me a bit to catch on to Raiders."

Amata stares at Dez. She tries to not look back, as Dez takes another sip. The sober part of myself wants to cut her off, while the soon-to-be inebriated self wants to say 'fuck it'.

"It's really that simple?"

"Yup. Stomached the blood till I realized it was fu-un."

"Fun? Killing is _fun_?"

"Gotta laugh at something, or else you'll go insane out here. …Being alone, for three months, with no friend in the world and no one to speak to was hard. If I didn't go a bit crazy, I might have gone inside. Isn't that right, Charon?"

"What?"

"You have to sometimes, go a little insane, to stay sane."

Her drunken speak, makes perfect sense to us. To myself and to Boone. We both look at the table, knowing silently how right she is. Compared to the pre-war days, this isn't the way life is to be lived. Yet in the same light, it is. It's the most free this nation and world has ever been. You can do what you want, in this lawless society and it's hard but worth it. But, there's a price. Most of the time, people live solitary lives out here. Dez is right. To deal with that loneliness, and the sights of blood and death surrounding you, at some point you have to let your mind leave, just to keep insanity away and the sanity close.

"Yeah, you do."

I finally say, a somber tone. Three Dog comes on the saloon radio. Still keeping at it, and still relaying the news. Although he hasn't spoken of Dez since the Outcast incident which in my mind, is a good thing. Having someone constantly narrate your whereabouts, even though they may be in praise, isn't wise. Especially for Dez.

"So, I have to be crazy to live a seemingly normal life out here."

"Yeah, that's it. That's it, right, Charon?"

"Why are you needing my approval on everything?"

"Because you're the oldest one. You know all of this already."

I shrug and nod in agreement. Boone laughs at something and leans back, still sipping his beer.

"Hate to admit it, but she's right. You've got a lot of days on me, Old Man."

I am an old man, but I'm still in the same body as I was two-hundred years ago. Even when I underwent Doc Barrows' operation, I regained what I looked like before the ghoulificaton set in.

"Hey Charon?"

Dez calls my name and I look up at her. Finishing my cup, I pour another.

"Hm?"

"Let's take the big bedroom."

"Alright."

With my approval on that, Dez takes a long chug of her vodka. I suspect tonight she wants a drunken romp. I can't agree or disagree just yet. The booze may be an aphrodisiac or it may just be sickening. Amata finishes her beer and goes to buy another one. Boone calls for her to bring him one, too. I left the tab open so the bartender will keep serving us. We'll have enough caps for tomorrow to pay him off.

"Maybe when I'm thirty-something, I'll want a kid."

Dez says and Boone and myself quickly look at her. Her eyes are glazed over in a slight drunken haze, and she stares up at the ceiling with her bottle tightly clutched in her hair. Scratching her short-haired head, Dez licks her lips.

"But not now or in the near-future. But later. Later, maybe, I'd like a family. But it's gotta be something normal. Something safe. It's gotta be, with you, Charon."

As she says that her eyes meet mine, and she's never looked more beautiful. Maybe that's the liquor talking I don't know. I just know Boone is caught off guard, and so am I.

"With me? Why?"

I know right now, I can hear what she never says. Things that are instead shown through action, I can hear due to her inebriation. Even myself at times, enjoys hearing tender things.

"Because you're the only man who I trust enough. And you're the only man who would die, before leaving or letting anything happen to that kid."

"Hm."

"I'll love him. I want a son. I'll love him, and keep him warm and safe if I can. If I'm smart. I dunno. Maybe. I might be too reckless still. Maybe, maybe when things are quiet. Soft. I'm drunk. Shut up."

She burps and I laugh at that. Boone looks from me to her, confused and not nearly as drunk.

"You're fuckin' thinking of _kids_?"

"It's just a thought. Nothing set in stone, Boone. But remember that the next time you give her the eyes. She's _my_ woman."

"I'm Charon's!"

Dez says taking more vodka. Boone shakes his head and Amata returns. She hands him a beer, and for the night we all drink. Amata not so much, but, it's still fun. Laughter, and a freedom I never allow myself. I feel liberated and relaxed, as the liquor flows through me. Eventually, I even feel giggly and happy. Like a young girl, almost. My vision is blurred, my words are slurred, and for the first time in a while, I'm happily drunk.


	57. She's Scared

(Amata)

Boone, Dez and Charon all get belligerently drunk. In a few short hours, they're rowdy and loud in saloon and knocking over chairs and tables like they're all professional drunkards. It's kind of gross, and a lot unprofessional. I mean, aren't we fighting a big fight tomorrow? What about hangovers? Aren't they the least bit concerned, with what tomorrow holds? Apparently not.

Maybe that's because though, the three of them have already been there. Been in a war-like situation and lived to tell about it. Even Charon, has scars carved deep into his muscle that shows on his arm. Boone has them, and Dez as we all know, has many. You don't get those scars, though, from easy tasks. They have to be, I guess you can say, earned. I noticed that when we all walked in here earlier. Charon and Boone and Dez got this air of silent respect from the patrons. They didn't talk or say much, or even step into the light. They just simply all sat down in the back corner, and I followed.

Yet everyone respected them. No one said anything but you could feel it. I know the obvious scars on Dez's face is a giveaway, and I guess to men and women like this it's also a sign of strength. Although highly unappealing, there's a story to it. There's a story that says in the end she lived, and for that the mercenaries and folk admire and respect her. Me? The second they saw my jumpsuit they turned up their noses and shook their heads. I swear they did. I haven't earned my place here, and I don't think I want to. It looks too painful.

Dez said, as the night trudged on and she became more and more trashed, that eventually you don't even feel it. She said that the first time she got shot, she didn't notice until after all was said and done. Even now she claims it's still the same, and blames it on the will to survive and adrenaline. I wouldn't know, I have yet to be shot. Dez seems to think it's virtually painless and that all you really feel is burning, because you're mind is so focused on surviving it puts you in a state of shock. The only time I've really gotten hurt was when I fell down the steps inside the vault and had to receive stitches, and that hurt a lot. Not sure though, if Dez's advice is something to really take.

Right now, Boone and Charon are competing in a drunken arm wrestling match and Dez is cheering Charon on while she drinks from her second bottle. Charon wins, and she cheers. I'm not taking part in this, tomorrow is too much of a downer. Standing up, I shake my head. Two beers is enough for me.

"I'm going to bed now."

"Pussy!"

Dez shouts, throwing an ashtray at me. I duck and glare at her, but she just laughs and laughs. I shake my head at her.

"You're going to regret that in the morning."

"I regret _your face_!"

More laughter on her end and annoyance on mine. I've never been around people this drunk, and I fail to see the point. Shaking my head more, I begin to walk up the stairs. Charon said he rented two rooms, so when I get to the top I look. I see the most beautiful thing I've seen since I've left the vault. A warm, soft, red-blanketed bed.

"Oh yes."

Stepping in the room I close the door and strip off my vault suit. It feels so nice, to fall into a warm bed in nothing but my underwear. It's been _forever_ since I've slept in something this clean and soft. The beds at whatever place we slept in last night weren't great. They were lumpy and squeaky and smelt of burning rubber. I didn't get much sleep last night, that's for damn sure. Since we're not leaving till tomorrow afternoon apparently, too, I feel like I can sleep in and get some real rest. After all I still haven't decided if I'm going to go.

I could stay here, in this place. What was Boone calling it? Oh, right, Megaton. But even if I did that, how would I make friends or even buy a house? I don't know what to do or who's in charge here. Is there a lease? It's definitely not like the vault, where you'd have an assigned apartment. Then when you got married, you'd move into the man's apartment or whichever suited the needs better, and ta-da! An open apartment for another of-age person. That's how it worked in there, and it worked well. There wasn't a lot of fighting or confusion or lack of anything. It was all on a regulated system that worked flawlessly. Maybe, I should have stayed.

But I've always wanted to get out, to see the world. When Dez left I'll admit amidst the chaos and fighting, I envied her. Because she got to leave. Because she was able to get out when she was young and really live out her youth. Instead I got to stay behind, and spend my time organizing and learning how to fix everything. I did that, while Dez roamed around with her beefed-up bodyguard. I don't know yet, how they went from employment to relationship, or what Charon was like back then. It seems sometimes, he gives off this different aura. Like he was almost another person. Maybe if I go tomorrow, I'll ask. If I live to see the next day after, I'll ask again.

Pulling back the blankets, I can't express how relieved I am to have them. Nights here are so cold. You wouldn't think that though, because of the hot days. It's the desert, or close to one I assume. Even the rain was cold, even though it was hot. That doesn't make much sense now, does it?

"You're losing your mind, Amata."

I say as I roll on my side, fluffed pillows beneath my head. I'm about to fall into what I'd assume would be a deep sleep, when my door gets kicked in. Scared I sit up, and frown when I see it's only Dez.

"Dez! Get _out_!"

She blinks and looks at me like I'm some sort of freak. She should take a look in the mirror.

"No. No _you_ get out it's _my_ bed. Mine. Mi-ine."

"Go in the other room."

"Make me."

I narrow my eyes and glare. Folding my arms over my chest, I sigh.

"Dez, just _go_. You're drunk as all hell."

"…You smell."

"Dez…"

"Like Brahmin shit."

"What the hell is a Brahmin?"

"Deathclaw-face."

"Stop it."

"Molerat-face."

I throw a pillow at her. She doesn't move and lets it hit her in the face.

"Mine."

Picking it up she cuddles it and hugs it.

"Then take it and leave."

Resting her hand at the end of the bed, she looks at me.

"Mine."

"No, it's my bed go to the other one."

Dealing with her drunk is like dealing with a kid. No, I take that back. Kids are at least reasonable. She belches horribly loud and yawns.

"I'm going to bed."

"Good."

I tell her, trying to shoo her out. Blinking she turns her head to the side like a dog, and looks at me.

"Don't take Charon, Amata."

"What?"

"I'll kill you, if you take him."

"Wait, what are you talking about."

"I've killed for less."

"Dez?"

"_Don't fucking take him_."

Suddenly I'm scared. Scared of Dez who is not only drunk, but also severely unstable. She was unstable in the vault and I'm only guessing living out here made it increasingly worse. I don't doubt her threats one bit, and the look in her eyes tells me she's not lying.

"I…I won't."

She doesn't find this a suitable answer. Instead of leaving, she just lets go of the bed and holds the pillow, still staring at me.

"He's mine. Not like Butch. He's mine."

"I know, Dez."

"…Not like Butch."

"Butch was bad, I know."

She throws the pillow at me with a brutal force. I never knew they could be dangerous, but now I do. It hits me in the head and I quickly grab it, just so she can't. It's not like she's trying, though. All she's doing is standing in the same place, swaying.

"Fuck Boone. If you want to fuck, fuck Boone. Don't be a pussy. Fuck Boone."

"…Right."

"Tell Charon you took my bed. I go to bed."

"I'll do that, Dez."

"Fuck you."

She slams the door on her way out. I notice her stumbling as she goes, and maybe I should help her. But when the door shuts exhaustion hits me and I don't feel the need to. Why would I help her, anyways? She hasn't done much for me and frankly, isn't much of a help out here. All she does is whine, scream, and cruse at things. The occasional shoot 'em up, too but only really when it's needed. Or not needed. I can't figure which at this point. She hasn't taken much time to teach me anything, but I can only figure that's because she's a bit angry at me. For what I have no idea. Maybe because I came out of the vault to a slew of people and she had no one? Knowing her, it's probably that more than anything.

I'm able to get some pre-REM sleep in, before I hear my door open again. This time it's quieter, softer. Since I've shut the lights off, I can't see who it is. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I sit up a bit groggy. It feels like I've had a power nap.

"Go to your own room."

I say, yawning and tired. Forcing my eyes to blink to clear up my vision, I hear a heavy breathing. The sound of metal and leather is dull and muffled.

"Come on I'm tired."

Laying back down I roll back on my side and pull the blankets up to my shoulders. A heavy hand gets placed on my arm, and I panic. Who is in here and what do they want? Before I can ask or even protest, I feel a set of soft lips pushing against mine. I can taste whiskey, and instantly, I'm aware. Even though I don't hesitate to return the gesture, fear still sets into my mind. He tastes like liquor, and sheer power. When there's a break, I sigh. No one's kissed me like that before.

"Dez…"

What? What did he just say?

"Charon? You're trashed aren't you?"

"Mmm…"

His mouth finds my neck as his lips and tongue make me feel shudders and sensations I've never felt. I'm instantly debating whether or not to tell him. But I have to, because Dez's threat still rings sharp in my mind.

"Charon…you need to leave…"

I grip the shirt he's wearing as he pulls down my tank top to kiss my collarbone. I've never really gotten past kissing, so this is all beautifully new to me. But why did it have to happen the same night Dez threatened me? Couldn't he have done this like, tomorrow or yesterday? I feel my legs get goosebumps.

"Try and make me."

His voice is gruff and rugged and it just awakens everything inside. When he kisses me again and his hands explore, I'm afraid he'll know I'm not her. By the taste and smell, though, Charon's been drinking like a fish and doesn't know his left from right. There's seconds where he almost falls on top of me, even though he's balancing on his knees.

His kisses are hard, soft, tasteful and tasteless. Sometimes he goes too far down with his tongue and to an inexperienced kisser it's a shock. But at the same time, I think he feels I'm new to this. That or, he thinks Dez has had one too many, and he's going a bit slower. Guiding me, almost. I hope he really doesn't think I'm Dez but at this point I can't care. Pulling his shirt over his head, I place my palms flat on his chest. He's solid, and yet has a softness. It feels amazing while we kiss, to finally touch his body. I was always curious, how ghouls felt.

Charon begins to slide off my shorts as he kisses down my stomach. I'm still wearing my shirt, and for good reason. If somehow he sees, even in the dark, my smooth and unscarred skin I just know he'll realize I'm not her. I'll know and then he'll flip and I'll lose the one chance I just may have to get rid of my virginity. It's not like I'm eager to get rid of it, it's just that…I want to feel the way Dez did. I want to cry out and moan that way, and be touched and caressed like she was. It's not fair, she gets to feel so beautiful, while a man before now, has never even touched my chest. I have to admit, as his hands rub places no one's ever been, and his fingers move in and out, it's the most amazing feeling.

"Be gentle, please."

I whisper in his ear, and he grunts in response. I'm not sure what that means, and I'm a bit worried. I've heard this hurts, and if he and Dez do some freaky rough stuff then I'm going to cry. When I hear his zipper going down, I quickly push him upwards with my palm. To my shock, he doesn't fight me. I guess in bed, he listens.

"Promise you won't hurt me."

"What?"

He's confused and drunk.

"I don't…it's…I…"

If I say it's my first time, he'll know. So I can't because I want this in such a bad way, especially since he's made me feel so good. Charon surprises me with a soft kiss on the lips, and makes a drunken promise.

"I'll be as gentle like the first time."

What first time? First time with them? Did he and Dez sleep together before Butch got a hold of her? No, I heard she lost it in one of the storage rooms, that can't be true. Maybe he's talking about when they first had sex. I can't imagine that now. I don't want to.

"Okay…okay…"

I'm deep-breathing, a bit sweaty, and a lot nervous. Is this what all girls go through? Gently Charon lays back down with me, kissing my lips and neck. He guides everything himself, and when I feel it, it hurts. I gasp, and throw my arms around his shoulders, digging my nails into him.

"Shh…"

He coos in my ear as I close my eyes tightly. Tears well behind my eyelids, as Charon continues onwards. I know for sure I'm going to bleed if I'm not already, but he doesn't seem to register that feel. My legs clench over his and I basically trap him as he moves. Will it always hurt like this? I hope not, I do. Charon's kisses, though, seem to make the pain soften a bit.

After awhile the harsh pain slowly turns to pleasure. It continues that way, as Charon begins to grow more and more into the situation at hand. Before I know it, my gasps of pain become that of pleasure, and I grip the sheets as he rises upwards. I want to feel, whatever it was Dez felt, that night inside the shack.

"Charon? Charon careful…"

I moan, quietly though because I don't know how thin the walls are, or how close Dez is. If she's as drunk as him she's passed out somewhere, but I'm still scared. I feel something amazing happening somewhere, as Charon holds fast to my hips. I'm not sure what it is, but I don't want it to stop. Closing my eyes, I arch my back and I hold back all I can from crying out and sharing this feeling with everyone. I'm about to, let loose and moan and cry just like Dez did, when Charon holds me in place and kisses me deeper than he has this whole night.

It's like my entire body is numb. Numb, and beautifully so. My legs shake, sweat forms on my brow, and Charon's tongue is the most pleasurable feeling I've felt. His hands lighten their hold on my hips, as he softly kisses my forehead. Exhaustion, the good kind, washes over me as Charon makes no sudden movements.

"I love you. I'll stay the night, Dez."

Charon says hardly loud enough for me to hear. It reminds me, and takes some of my moment away, to hear her name. I want to respond that I'm Amata but it would only ruin this. If I only get once chance at this before dying, then let this be it. Let this beautiful and intimate moment be it, because I can't think of a better way to give something up. Something you can really, only give once. It's not my fault, Dez didn't wait and gave it to an asshole like Butch. She could have simply waited for Charon, but she didn't. I wonder, tomorrow, what he's going to say.

Rolling off of me, Charon pulls my body into his. He doesn't bother to put on his shirt or pants, before curling up. Even though we're both hot and sweaty, I pull the blanket over us. Maybe then, in the morning, it'll buy me time to lie with him if he can't see me.

"I don't want to sleep."

I admit, blushing. I'm happy, his eyes are closed.

"Why?"

"Because it'll be over."

He kisses my cheek and sighs.

"We have tomorrow, Dez."

His breath is nothing short of liquor. I think if he were to smoke a cigarette right now, his entire body would burst into flames. Last time I saw, he was on his third bottle. I didn't know it was possible for someone to drink that much and not die, but Charon's a big guy. His tolerance for it is a lot more than Dez's or anyone else's. I still, have yet to see someone match his height eye-to-eye.

Closing my eyes, I hold his hand. It truly isn't fair, that Dez gets this. That she gets to sleep beside this and do this every night. I'd never leave my home, if Charon was in it. Really it's sad that the only way I can even come close to what she has, is only by pretending to be her. Charon wouldn't have ever done this if he was sober, or any less drunk trust me. He's a loyal dog to Dez it seems. Spent the whole day with her and some kid. That whole day, too, when we'd pass one another he'd look at her with this gleam in his eye that…that really showed he cared.

I know now, I might not ever be able to take him from her. But, at least, if Dez continues on her rude triad, I have this to tell her. That in one night, Charon and I had sex and she was nowhere to be found. Of course she won't believe me, but it'll be true. It'll be true and maybe, even, I can use this to my advantage. I don't want him for myself to spite her in any way. In fact, I feel a bit guilty. I don't want to really hurt Dez, even though I know I just did, I just…I just want to have it. Have this every night, since I've always been so lonely. She's had him nearly her whole time out here, isn't it time to share the goods? Doesn't anyone believe in giving to the needy? I haven't met anyone out here yet in my short time, who's even really comparable to the way Charon is. The strong, protective and slightly overbearing energy he puts off is quite attractive. I wonder, though, if I hadn't met him while he was with Dez, would I even be attracted to him?

Granted the first time I saw him I was horrified, but even then…when they left, I wanted to see him again. This person who did anything and everything for Dez at the snap of her fingers seemed worth getting to know. I'm not sure what their relationship was back then, though. A part of me, even though I was terrified, kind of did want him to stay. Dez could go but him…this frightful being beside her, I wanted to keep. Maybe it was because she had him, or maybe it's just the way he walks and is. Strong, silent, but I know…I know he'd die for what he loves. He loves Dez, but somehow, I want him to love me, too.


	58. Are You Afraid of Being Alone?

_I figured I should mention this for some off reason. I was browsing DA and I stumbled across a picture called 'Any Ghoulish Consolation' by BellicoseButterfly and I must say, that is _exactly_ how I envisioned Dez to look from the very beginning. If I had seen that when starting the Dez stories, maybe my description of her would have been a lot clearer. Anyways, just a random thing I found that I wanted to share. Because Charon is also in it and they're interacting in a way that I wanted them to when first starting this. I want to mee this mysterious artist who perfectly captured the essence of these stories by sheer mistake. Bravo. Now, go look at it.

* * *

_(Charon)

Before I open my eyes, even as they're closed, the sun stings. It's a burning red through my eyelids and I roll over, feeling instantly the headache, nausea and stiffness that comes from a night of drinking. Sighing, I pull the blanket to my shoulders, cold and hot at once. Never again will I ever drink so much in such a short time. Last night was fun, but not worth feeling this way in the morning. I know a few short minutes in some radiation will do, so I'm in no real rush to rise. After all, the sun has yet to fully rise itself.

Rolling over, I feel another person beside me. Right, Dez. She told me to meet her in this room, and I did. Although the sex was different last night than it has been in the past, I blamed it on the liquor. From what I can remember Dez was a bit hesitant and defiant. Like she was nervous or even didn't want me around. I ignored it, though. Liquor brings out the worst and best in people, so I'm just assuming she was just exhausted.

Reaching out my arms, I wrap them around Dez's waist and pull her close. She, again, pulls a bit before accepting. Is something wrong? Did I say or do something last night that would upset her? As far as I can remember, no. Maybe I simply rubbed her the wrong way during sex. Nothing that can't be fixed, really. She's probably just hung-over and not wanting to be touched or moved. If I drank as much as she did, and weighed just as little, I wouldn't want to be touched, either. Knowing her she probably overspent her limit and still kept going. If anything, she won't remember the night before and will be violently ill until she gets to radiation. With my luck I'm going to have to bring her there, even though I'm sick myself.

Pressing my face into her back, I sense something. Each person has their own unique scent, and it's easy to pick up on. Especially in this situation where hormones and pheromones ran high and soaked into the bed. This scent, doesn't belong to Dez. At least, not that I'm aware of, anyways. Maybe she's trying a new perfume and it's masking it? Then again, Dez trying perfume and finding perfume out here are two very different things. As I ponder this, I feel a strand of hair brush the top of my head. Dez has hers cut to about an inch long. There's no way…

Opening my eyes, I see the person in front of me is not Dez. In any way, shape or form. For a minute I'm caught off guard with a lot of shock and disbelief. When it finally registers, I push her away, and jump off the bed. In doing so I grab the blanket and wrap it around my waist, pushing myself against the far wall.

"What the hell!"

I say a bit lower than expected. Somewhere in this saloon is Dez, and this is the _last_ thing I need right now. Amata sleepily turns over, covered by the white sheet. Her sleepy eyes open as she looks at me, and gives me a small smile.

"Hey."

Looking around, I'm positive this is the room that I rented for Dez and myself. Then what is Amata doing here? Moreover, why are the sheets bloody? Did I do something? Is that Dez's blood. I can't remember, the night is all a blur other than small snippets. I feel my heart racing and I know I'm in trouble.

"What happened? What? Tell me right _now_!"

I hiss at Amata, still in the corner like a scared animal. Truth is I am scared. Scared of what Dez is going to do if she walks in at any given moment.

"…You don't remember?"

She says, tired. Her legs kick under the sheets, and she lifts her arms to stretch.

"I'm really sore…"

"Amata, tell me _right now_."

"Charon, calm down."

I hit the wall next to me, infuriated, my sickness taking a back seat.

"_No_!"

Displaying my anger so openly to her, scares her into reality. I don't feel bad about that.

"You came in here drunk."

"_And_?"

"And well…we did what most people do late at night."

"What are you _doing_ here? This is _Dez's_ room!"

Amata shakes her head, putting a finger to her chin. The thought and now knowing that I slept with Amata is…well, frightening, sickening, and not too great. Not because I find her repulsive, quite the opposite. For a female she's attractive as they all are, but she's not the type I'd prefer nor is she Dez by any means. I've made a horrible mistake.

"Well I didn't know that last night. I saw a bed, and I slept in it."

"Wait, wait…you _knew_? You _knew_ I was expecting Dez yet you _still_ allowed me to go on?"

I'm both disgusted and shocked at my revelation.

"By the time I realized you thought I was Dez it was too late. I lost myself in sexual desires."

"Bullshit fucking bullshit, Amata."

She blinks and looks blank as if she has no idea what I'm talking about. Hearing a noise down the hall, I panic and begin to search for my clothes, the blanket still secured around my waist.

"What are you doing?"

I glare at her as I find and put on my boxers.

"Getting dressed what the fuck does it look like?"

"Why?"

"Do you want her to find out? Do you? She'll fucking kill you and beat the piss out of me, Amata. I don't think you understand what you just did."

"You mean what _you_ just did."

"Excuse me?"

I ask, pulling on my black shirt and socks.

"You were drunk, Charon. There's no way a small girl like me could fight off a big guy like you."

"Don't even start. Don't you fucking start."

"In the vault I was a great negotiator."

"I don't give a fuck."

"I'm saying we can make a deal that saves _both_ our skins."

I don't want to hear anymore of her insane and inane bullshit. Pulling on my pants I buckle my belt and grab the top half of my armor.

"Charon, you're not hearing me correctly."

"I'm hearing you fine and your threats are empty."

Quickly I work with the straps as another noise emits down the hall.

"…But…you were my first."

"I also was seemingly convinced that _you_ were Dez."

I snap back. Searching my pockets I find my cigarettes and light one up. I need it now, to stop my hands from shaking and the guilt from being so overwhelming. Blowing smoke out, I walk over to a dresser and sit on it. Holding my head in my hands, I try to figure out what the best thing to do is. Telling Dez, I assume, would be. But telling her is a lot easier to think than do. She'll be angry, rightfully so, and after I've begged and pleaded with her to trust me. There's no way she will, now. No way she'll look past and take me back and then Boone will be free to whisk her away to New fuckin' Vegas. I know this because…because Dez is fragile. As much as she loves me and cares, there's only so much she can take. Her limit is nearly reached with me, and this will send her over the edge. I've lost it all, and it's not even noon.

"Charon?"

"Shut up. Shut up, Amata."

"I won't tell her."

Picking my head up I look at her. What's she getting at?

"I won't tell her, if after we do what we're doing tonight, you'll help me."

"Help you what?"

"Live out here."

I want to laugh her whole response and question and request is so insane. I just shake my head instead, feeling to somber to even think of smiling.

"I'm not leaving Dez."

"Want to know how I see it?"

"Entertain me."

"Well, if you or I tell her, she'll be angry. She'll hate your guts forever and ever and that's hard to live with. But, if you leave without a goodbye she'll just be sad. There's more of a chance she'll take you back down the line if you do it my way. It's a lot easier to forgive for absence than hurt."

"If I leave with you, then she'll _never_ take me back nor would I even feel worthy of it at that point. Amata emotions like this aren't games or toys. Have you lost your mind?"

"It's on the table."

"Charon!"

Dez's voice calls out, sad, lost from the hall. I stand quickly and rush to the door. Opening it, she's in the hallway, holding her stomach with tears in her eyes.

"Dez, what's wrong?"

"I'm si-ick!"

She cries and I smile, relieved. There are tired circles under her eyes, and she looks pale and discolored. It doesn't matter to me, though, for right now I'm just happy to see her. Wrapping my arms around her small shoulders, I kiss the top of her head. I'm horrible. I'm a horrible being.

"It's alright. Nothing radiation won't fix."

"Where _were_ you last night? You never came and I got sad."

"I passed out in the other room. On the floor. I thought you were in there but it was Amata, so I curled outside the door and fell asleep."

She looks at me like she doesn't believe me. I'm scared, hoping there's no marks visible to her on my body. I can't remember what Amata was like, but with my luck she's one of those scratchers.

"I'm mad you didn't come."

Relieved I smile at her. She pouts a bit, but that's nothing out of the ordinary.

"We'll talk at the puddle, alright? I'll meet you there."

"Why can't you come now? What if I die from my extreme nausea?"

"You'll live."

Whining and whimpering the whole way, Dez goes down the steps and out the door. This morning, the saloon is quiet. Not much is going on, and people don't usually drink this early. Sighing, angry, I turn back to deal with Amata.

"You will keep your goddamned mouth shut."

She folds her arms, unhinged by my threat. Sitting up, I cringe remembering last night I kissed her. It's not something worth remembering.

"Then think about what I want."

"What you want is out of the question. I'll tell her myself."

"You really think she'll believe you?"

"Does it matter? I can't keep it from her."

"Then you're just going to lose her, and for what? Hm? It wasn't _that_ bad, Charon."

Fueled and powered by anger and rage, I lunge towards Amata. Grabbing her by the throat I slam her against the wall, not enough to hurt her, but enough to prove a point. I'm angry right now, angry and hurt, and I want her to know it.

"You are _not Dezbe_. You can pretend to be, but you're not her. If you say _one fucking thing_ I'll kill you myself. I'm not losing everything, over the deceit of a desperate and envious woman."

She kicks her keels against the wall, dramatic. I'm not holding her tight enough to restrict breathing, nor would I do such a thing. I'm keeping her at eye-level and making sure she gets what I'm saying. Sleeping with her was a mistake, one I can't fully blame on liquor. Her, myself, and the whiskey all takes part. I should have listened to myself when I felt something off, and she should have been the bigger person and told me. The whiskey inebriated me and clouded my sense of judgment. I can honestly say, I won't drink it again.

Staring at her a bit longer, I sigh and let her fall. Amata isn't worth the energy of being angry. Whatever happened last night, is in the past. I did something I'll regret for as long as I live, but I can do nothing to fix it. Whether or not I tell Dez about it, is another question entirely. As Amata falls to the floor in a pathetic, crumpled mess, I shake my head at her. She looks up at me with sad and doleful eyes, but I can do nothing but walk away. Away, because the shame and guilt I feel is too immense to stay.

Stepping outside the saloon, I look down at Dez as she lounges with her feet in the puddle, her head looking upwards, and the rising sun warming her face. Men like me, don't deserve women like her. They're not allowed, to receive forgiveness and second chances. Somehow, I was given both. And yet I still wasted it. Wasted the second chance she gave me from the kindness of her heart. I stare down at her, and even though in these wee early hours there's people walking around, Dez is still all I see.

Resting my elbows on the rail, I light another cigarette. It soothes my nausea and headache, and gives me a small moment of peace. I wanted to leave this life behind. Wanted to go off into the Wastes with Dez and continue to lead a life we'd both be happy with. She has no idea or inkling, of what happened between me and Amata last night. I'm not sure, if I'm man enough to tell her. Here this girl lies, in the puddle and on the dirt, the woman who taught me wrong from right. The woman who provoked me enough to bring emotion and humanity into my life. Yet, what did I do? I lied and betrayed her. Is that all I'm good for? Is that what I do, to the person who cares so much about me?

Dez moves her head, and I know she sees me. Instantly, I feel a rare softness inside. She smiles, waving at me. I nod my head at her, and she stands up. It's like she has small wings on her shoes, with the way she walks. Through all of her vices, Dez is still this delicate thing. I notice only now that I see, she walks as if she's a ballerina. Even in boots, she points her toes, walking as if she's on air or light as a feather. When I stare at her like this, I'm like a lovesick puppy. Knowing I've betrayed her sits like a stone in my stomach, and it's not appealing. Dez walks up the hill, but as she does she turns and looks at me again. I want to take the entire world on, and be together forever with her. I want to fly to the moon, and up to Heaven together. But, without her, they won't let me in.

She stares at me as if she doesn't believe I'm standing in front of her. I watch as she beckons for me to come down, walking down the hill. I realize, I can't tell her. I can't, let her down like that again. There's no way she'd find out, unless Amata spoke. But I think Amata is too scared at this point to say much of anything. Putting out my cigarette, I humor Dez and wave my hand at her.

"Charon, come down."

She calls, her voice airy and soft. I remember when we first met, and all the events leading up to our romance as if it was yesterday. We both were quite immature and reckless in our newfound attraction, but it was still one of the most exhilarating and liberating things I've ever felt. Walking down the metal streets, I feel such an urge to get to her. I don't know what it is about this morning, that makes me want to see her so badly. Maybe it's the way the guilt is feeling. Maybe, it's what happened last night making me realize truly, how much I care for her. How much she and the way she loves me means to my mere existence. I'd die, before I let anything hurt her. Even if that something was me. I'd rather have myself killed, than ever be the source of her pain and hurt. I can't tell her. Because if I did, I'd have to die.

Getting to the hill, my feet can't move me fast enough. Dez has been watching me this whole time, her eyes similar to a cat's. My heart, beats faster and faster as I get closer and closer to her.

"Dez…"

I sigh as I grab her and hold her tightly in my arms. I hold back tears of pain and anger at myself, as I press my lips against the top of her head. She smells sweet like candy of pre-war.

"Charon? Charon, what's wrong? Did you have bad dreams again."

"Yeah…yeah you could say that."

I feel her arms wrap around my back as she presses her face into my chest. She takes a deep breath, he chest moving against mine. I hurt her. It's my fault. I caused her pain and grief and she doesn't even know it yet. I can't own up to it, either. I don't want to, because I know I'll lose her. I can't lose her. Not again. Not ever.

"I'm not sick anymore."

She tells me as we cling to one another. Grabbing her waist I lift her light body into the air and look at her, holding her above my head. Her toes brush my belt, as her hands rest on the tops of my shoulders. To me, she weighs next to nothing and this is something simple. Something childish, and cute, so that I can see her smile at me. Dez does smile, and her eyes sparkle. I hold her like that for a few long seconds, and she looks at me with her feet lightly grazing my midsection from time to time. When I let her down, she wraps her arms around my neck and keeps her feet from the ground. I hold her like that, too, because she wants me to.

"My life would suck without you, stupid."

Yeah. Yeah mine would, too. Burying my face in the nape of her neck as I hold her up, I can't tell you how true her statement is.

"We have a big day today."

She whispers, almost sad.

"Yeah, I know."

"But, you're here with me, so whatever happens it'll be alright."

I hug her tighter. She kisses my cheek, and I want to crumble. I want to fall to my knees and beg for her to forgive me. Tell her the truth, and let it all pour out. But I can't have her forgive me. I can't. If she understood somehow, it'd only make me feel worse. I want her to be angry, to hate me because that's what I deserve. Right now, I don't deserve this softness, this sentimental behavior, this giving and sacrifice that she's offering. Dez has had enough, she 's let me get close, she's let me in. I want…I want her to hate me, because I'm undeserving of everything else.

Lifting my head, as Dez allows herself to be put down, I see her smile at me. She shouldn't. She shouldn't be doing that. When I see it, tears want to run down my face. I know, I've let her down. Brushing her cheek with my knuckles, her lips kiss my fingers. I have to be the one to her. I have to prove it now, more than ever, that I'll never let her down again. That I'll be there even if she doesn't want me to.

"You sure you're okay, Charon?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

She looks at me and steps into my arms again.

"I really did, miss you last night."

"Why? We were both drunk."

Dez shrugs, and I pat her head.

"Because I just did. Dunno why, don't ask."

"Dez?"

"What?"

"Tell me you'll stay?"

Peering up at me, I can tell now she knows I'm not fine. That something is bothering me and my usually blue skies are turning gray. Raising an eyebrow, she licks her lips.

"For how long?"

"However long you like."

"I'll stay forever, then. So long as you come back every night. I'll stay."

Don't say that. Don't say those kind and sentimental words, to someone like me. Someone who isn't worthy of them, someone who doesn't deserve them. Save them, for someone worth it. Save it for the man, I'll show you I can be. Then, you can tell me till the Brahmin come home, of how much you love me. But not now. No, not now.

"Charon I'm scared about tonight."

"Why? I won't let anything happen to you."

"I always am, you know that. Running into this, you never really get use to the feel. Feel of impending battle, and the thought that you might die."

"I understand, but don't worry too much. I'm sure Gob has things for us, and we have another man to help us."

"There's Amata, too."

I flinch at her name. Looking away I sigh.

"Right, useless twit that she is."

"Whoa animosity. You two fight behind the scenes or something?"

Letting her go and stepping away, I can't touch her and feel right, while talking about Amata. That's too dirty, even for me.

"You could say that."

I fold my arms over my chest and look at the water. Walking towards it, I step in it just enough to feel it coming through my boot, and then I wait.

"Charon what happened? Did she say something? I'll go rip her face off."

"She said nothing. It was nothing. Don't bother yourself with it."

"Charon…"

I look at her and she knows I mean business. I've never looked at her like this, that, to mask what it is. Guilt kicks in, and I can't look at her anymore. Looking down at my feet, I let my shoulders fall forward, and try to tell myself I won't miss her if she decides to leave. If and when, she finds out. Someday, I'll have to tell her. I try, to convince myself that I deserve her to leave me, but, it doesn't help. Regardless, I'll miss her with every fiber and every being in my body. It'll be hard, to wake alone and it'll be even harder to deal with life after that. I shouldn't think of such things, though, because for right now she's still with me. I can't let this, let my mistake, be the end.

"I'm sorry. I won't ask. But, I do have to know one thing."

I look back at her, worried and curious. Dez stares at me, a sad smile on her face.

"Is it why, you weren't with me last night?"

What do I say? Quickly my mind races with answers, solutions and outcomes. I finally find one, appropriate and befitting.

"No. No."

Somehow I know this doesn't comfort her. There's stale air between us, and I wish I knew what she was thinking. If she only knew, the truth and how I felt. If she could only find it in her heart…I don't know. Sometimes, I wonder if letting go and never looking back, would be the best option. After all, I seem to be doing a horrible job, at being a man.

Looking at her, I see she stares down at the ripples in the water. Her mind is something I can't say I understand, but I can say that I know where it's taking her. As true, as her thoughts might be, I can't let her hurt. I know I'm the cause, but I can't. There's enough of that in everyday life. I just want to see her smile, even if inside, I'm hurting myself.

"Dez…"

I sigh and walk over to her, at the edge of the puddle. You and me, Dez, we've seen it all. We've been everywhere this land has to offer, and we've done things people dream about. Time's taken it's toll, and we're older now but I promise you, I promise, I'll spend the rest of our quiet lives making all of this up to you. I swear. Taking her hands, I rub my thumbs over the backs of her hands.

"Hey, you."

I say and slowly, she looks at me. There's worry and fear in her eyes. Please, don't look at me like that. Like I'm the cause of those things. Please, I don't want to believe it.

"You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

"Charon?"

"You know that if you needed anything, I'd find it somewhere in the world for you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dez…you know, I could never leave you. I couldn't sleep, or eat or anything, if you weren't there cursing at me to do it."

She smiles, and I feel relieved.

"My life isn't the same, without you. Dez when you went to New Vegas I didn't know what to do. I hardly felt anything. You know, I'd rather die, than see you leave my side? You know this, don't you?"

"Charon what's gotten into you?"

It's like I'm begging her. Begging her to believe me but I just don't care. I don't know what I want her to believe exactly, but I just…I just don't know what to do.

"Just let me know, that this one bad day, will end. That when it's all over, I'll still be able to be by your side."

"You know you will, Charon. What is it? Will you tell me? Did something happen?"

Masking the truth with a lie, kills me inside, but I can't lose her.

"I'm scared I'll lose you tonight."

"I'm not going anywhere. You have my back, right?"

"Of course."

"Then we'll be alright. This time tomorrow, we'll be halfway home."

I'm lost without you, Dezbe. Lost, in this world I've overspent my time in. There's no other woman, who compares and no other woman I want to wake next to in the mornings. I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart, I'm so, so sorry.


	59. Into the Night

(Dez)

By nightfall, we're able to make it just before the perimeter of Fort Independence. The walk isn't far from Megaton, and we could have been here much sooner, but I'd spent some extra time getting ready in Megaton. Really I wanted to stay to figure Charon out a bit. He's been acting weird, and staying closer to me and watching me more than he usually does. Acting out of character like that usually means something's bothering him. He keeps saying it's either nothing or his past. Without some solid evidence to argue against it, then I can't really say much of anything. So I went with the flow.

We ended up getting a lot more from Gob than we bargained for. He made three dangerous-looking explosives for us. Right now Charon has the explosives while I have the detonator on my waist. Aside from that we have an abundance of ammunition, and a Missile Launcher. With two missiles, of course. It's on my back and it's really heavy but I don't trust myself or my luck with the whole 'carrying dangerous bombs' thing. I'm not sure what for or how we're going to use the Missile Launcher but hey, it's better to be over prepared than not.

"Amata, Boone, why don't you go scope everything out? Keep low and use the binoculars Gob gave you."

Boone and Amata nod. Kneeling down I take the launcher from my back and sigh. Amata has been crying scared this whole day, but Boone's been taking her off for a bit and teaching her how to shoot. Basically it's 'stick with me or die' in Amata's head now. That's all well and fine with me, so long as she keeps near Boone and not me or Charon. The two of us are like, elites in this 'invading and destroying' thing. She'd mess us up. Plus, it's sort of like the last time. You know, after this, who else is there? I'm just being nostalgic but, through and through it all, Charon and I have done a lot together. Going out to live in solitary after this is like the big bang goodbye. I want to remember it just like I remember the first time the Talons came into our lives. Us, against them, and nothing more.

Taking out my shotgun, I look it up and down. Gob somehow acquired a double-barrel, and trust me it's an upgrade from my sawed-off in this case. It has a bit more range and a whole lot more power, so I'm keeping my traditional sawed-off for when shit gets serious. Loading shells into both of them, I wait quietly in the night for Amata and Boone to report back with their findings.

"Dez?"

Charon stands beside me, and I look up at him as I close the double-barrel. Inside my chest, there's still fear over this. Fear, of going in and never coming out. Like I said earlier, it's something you never really get use to. But looking up at him, I'm hoping it'll all be okay now.

"What's up?"

He crouches down beside me, and kisses the side of my head.

"We don't have much time before they come back and we begin this. It's going to be difficult."

"Yeah, no more difficult than anything we've done in the past, though."

"I remember the past very well."

I look at him as he lights a cigarette and stares off in the distance. Below the hill, lights of Fort Independence twinkle like stars on the night horizon. Charon, we have been here, many times before.

"Remember Wadsworth?"

I smile, lighting my own cigarette and sighing.

"Fuckin' robot nearly killed me a few times."

"Yeah, but those were the best times. We lived in awkward harmony with one another."

"We didn't know nor like one another."

I look at him, blowing out smoke.

"Charon I always liked you."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. I didn't want to, believe me I fought it. But, from the night I cleaned your cut in the lobby of the Museum of History, there was something there for you, that wasn't for anyone else."

"You acted as if you didn't want me around."

"You mean I still don't?"

He chuckles and sits down, giving his old knees a break.

"Remember, how in my Megaton house you coaxed me into going to Vault 87 through Little Lamplight?"

"Those kids…they were not good ones. What did they call you? 'Mungo'? Most of them now should be in Big Town."

"Yeah but I'm talking about before then. In the house. You changed my bandages and then like…counted the scars you gave me then kissed me."

"I remember that. It was something like this, right?"

He grabs my neck and pushes me down on the ground. I look up at him, his eyes, the same as they were that day. His fingertips graze the scar on my neck, and then he moves his hands down, touching where the second one is over my pants.

"Two…"

Shoving his hand up my skirt, without even looking, he brushes the scar right below my breast on my ribs. My heart pounds, with the memories of that night and action of now fueling it.

"Three."

Lowering his head, just as he did before, I feel his lips gently and faintly graze the scar on my neck. Charon pulls away and kisses my lips. That's the only difference between the memory I have, and what he just did.

"Why'd you do it back then?"

I whisper, looking at his head against the backdrop of stars.

"Because at that time, I didn't know what it was you made me feel. What those emotions surging through me for. I just simply knew, I felt so horrible, for hurting you. I wanted to show in some way, I felt bad."

"I knew you did though. You kissed me. We never really kissed or did anything back then."

"I suppose it was my own way of saying that…I cared for you, and wanted your patience."

"Now you're stuck with me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

I don't want to go to Fort Independence. I don't want to infiltrate, put him or me in harms way, and risk it all anymore. Instead I want to go back to that shack high up on a hill, and show him how much I love him each and every night.

"Hey!"

Boone's voice distracts us and Charon and I sit up. We continue smoking our cigarettes, as Boone and Amata approach. I can't see the look on their faces, it's too dark. I've also forbidden Pip-Boy lights. It's too much of a risk.

"What'd you find?"

I ask Boone, itching to get in and get this over with so I can go home.

"The outside isn't heavily guarded. There's a handful, maybe more, and I'm assuming everyone else is inside. Do you know the layout of this place?"

"Charon and I can get inside and plant the bombs with ease, so long as you and Amata can create a long enough distraction for us on the outside."

"Dez, how do you suppose we do that, huh?"

Amata's been a bit brave and snide today. She has to remember her place. Standing up I look in her eyes.

"Why not use the Missile Launcher, Princess? I doubt you can even lift it, though."

"Dez is that wise?"

Charon asks from behind, and I turn to look at him.

"If Boone and Amata fire the missiles into the building, it'll not only weaken the structure but aid in a distraction. Most of the soldiers will leave, and try and figure out what happened. Then, you and I can run inside and take care of our part."

"What if they see it? The launcher has not only a kickback but a light."

"Then you and Amata can run for your lives. They won't be concerned with you after a while, though. In their helmets are radios, as soon as Charon and I are spotted they'll all run like Radroaches with their heads cut off. They'd rather catch us, than two of our cohorts."

Boone nods and looks at the Missile Launcher. Bending down he grabs it, and nods.

"Ready when you are."

Amata shrugs and Charon takes the lead. We scope the perimeter of the building from a safe and reasonable distance away. There's got to be a way in, aside from the main entrance.

"We can enter there."

Handing me the binoculars, Charon lets me see an open floor ground window. I was expecting a door, something normal like that, but I can't be too picky.

"You and Amata have to hit the building from the other side. It'll draw them away. Charon and I will wait here until they begin to scatter."

"Understood."

Boone takes Amata with him, and they head off. Charon stands close to me, cocking his shotgun before placing it back on his back. Looking up at the stars, I smile.

"Charon, where's Pluto?"

Standing behind me, Charon points to the stars in the sky.

"You can't see it, but it should be there."

I wrap my hand around his extended arm, and bring it down to my shoulders. Kissing it, I close my eyes. Soon, we'll be alone. Soon, we'll have nothing but the warm embraces of one another, and the sun to wake us. When that comes, I'll appreciate every moment of it and drink it all up.

"And Charon follows Pluto. In every rotation."

"That it does."

"But, Charon's been knocked out of rotation. Now, Charon's just as important as Pluto."

I look into his eyes as I press my head into him. We're on borrowed time, waiting for the loud burst of explosion. Waiting, for the missiles to hit the building, and waiting for the moment where we run. For now, though, I just want to stand here. Stand and look at the stars and skies above. But, something catches my eye. Something from halfway across the hill, close to the guards that protect the fort.

"Oh, oh shit."

Pulling from Charon I grab the gun from my back. I can't run, I have to make sure what I'm seeing is real.

"It's Amata."

Charon says and we look at one another. That dumbass! She's turned on her Pip-Boy light and is going in the _wrong_ direction. Instead of going _around_ the fort, she's heading _towards_ it. Grabbing the binoculars, Charon looks through and growls.

"Boone doesn't notice, he's still walking."

"Charon, where are the guards?"

He looks down near where Amata is, and swallows hard.

"They've spotted her."

I take off down the hill without a second thought. As much as I hate her, as much as she's been annoying me and making me mad and pushing my buttons, I can't let this befall her. The Brotherhood will _know_ she's from the same vault as me, the jumpsuit doesn't hide much. They'll beat her senseless and with her mentality she'll give them all she wants. I want to say that I'm risking my neck right now, because I see her as a friend and equal and don't want her to die, but I'm not. I'm doing this because it's putting me, Charon and our future life together at risk. She'll tell them of our plan, of where we now live. After doing this my whole life, and the dream of what I've always wanted so close, I can't risk it being taken. I'd rather kill her myself, then let the Brotherhood do it for me.

I nearly trip over my feet as I get closer. There's guards near her, they shine in the light of her Pip-Boy. Without thinking I fire at one of them, giving away my position completely.

"It's an ambush!"

One of them yells and there, it's gone. The plan we've concocted and created is blown up in my face. It was near-foolproof, and Amata was the fool. If we get out of this alive, I'm going to kill her.

"Dez!"

Stupid! She calls my name and I fire my weapon again, half-hoping I catch her in the crossfire. Instead I'm the one who gets hit, right in the upper thigh. When you're shot in the leg, you're pretty much useless usually. But shit, I'm no ordinary being. Rather than fall down and surrender, I just fall down. I still clasp my gun and pump it over and over, reloading faster than I have before. Somehow I'm able to take out the guards that surrounded Amata, and she rushes over to me, stepping over their bodies.

"Are you insane? What the hell were you _thinking_? You _blew it_!"

I scream at her, cursing and crippled. Amata shakes her head, not knowing what to do and not even bothering to unclip her gun.

"I…I'm sorry I thought Boone went down here!"

"Boone is _up there_!"

Amata looks and we hear a loud blast as Boone, unbeknownst to what just happens, fires one of the missiles. It clips the top left-hand side of the fort, and rubble begins to fall. It's not enough really, to destroy the structure but it does create a needed distraction. Noise from the scattered Brotherhood is heard from all directions. Where's Charon? Where is he? Frantic I look around, but when it's this dark with no light, and a cloudy sky, you can't see your hand in front of your face. Plus I'm at the bottom of the hill, so it's somehow darker.

"Amata, I need you to get me out of here. Can you do that?"

"What? You can't walk?"

"I'm _shot _you twit!"

She jumps away, all of a sudden scared of something. I can't figure what it is, until they're right on top of me.

"Back from the dead now, are we?"

Before I can respond a metal boot kicks me hard in the ribs. It causes me to drop my gun, and sends my body twisting into the dirt. Picking my head up, I cry out.

"Charon!"

Amata falls down, scared as more Knights surround us. Boone never fired that second missile, and I'm thinking he's also, been caught. This is all Amata's fault. This is all her doing, and her issue. She was so damn scared of this very instance last night, yet here she is, being the cause of it. Glaring up, I look at the helmeted Knights.

"Quiet!"

The same Knight that kicked me the first time, kicks me again. Quickly I grab the sawed-off from my waist. Bastard didn't even see it there. Without even aiming I fire it off, and a piece of his armor flies through the air. Squeezing the trigger again, I fire once more. He cries in pain, and I know for a fact I've hit him. Where and how severe it is, is another question entirely. Burning in my arm causes me to drop my weapon. Blood weeps from my upper arm, and the initial shock made me panic.

"Fuck!"

"Dez!"

Amata cries and I look over. Two guards have her in their hold, an arm for each one. Somehow, the sight of that doesn't anger me. Instead, I'm more pissed at her for ruining it than I was before. I feel someone grab the thin straps to my top and pull me to my feet. The pain I feel in my thigh is bad, but nothing I can't handle.

"Let's go! You've been a pain in our ass since your precious daddy crawled from that vault! Enough is enough!"

He lurches me forward and I fall into the dirt.

"Charon! Charon!"

A kick makes me stop yelling, but in my mind I'm screaming for him. Where is he? Where did he go? He's supposed to have my back, and I can only assume he's in the same trouble as me and Amata. But he wasn't that far behind, was he? As another Knight, different from the kicker, picks me up I search the darkness for him. There's not one single sign. Not one signal or anything, that he's even on the same planet. As my body is carried away towards the fort, I still look for him. Amata cries like a child and it just makes me hate her more and more. It's her fault. All of this, her fault.

Inside, the Knights take us below. They confiscate my pack, guns, and ammunition. They take Amata's pitiful pistol, too. Like it could actually do damage. Knowing I can't walk, the Knights instead have to carry me to wherever they're taking me. Trust me, they're not too pleased about that.

"You're in deep shit now, girl. Casdin ain't here anymore, but you already know that. We're under new management, and better, at that."

One of the Knights tells me and I feel quite snide.

"I already know this cock and bull tell me something else."

"Snappy little thing, aren't you?"

"Ah, she's been this way the whole time she's been meddling with us. Nothin' big."

They talk about me like I'm not even there.

"Doesn't say much about this so-called army if one little girl can hurt you so much."

They respond to that by throwing me in a dark room. Amata soon follows. Landing on my wounded arm, I cry out in pain.

"McGraw will be in here to deal with you shortly. Have fun, little ladies."

"Fuck you!"

I cry, before the door slams shut. It leaves me and Amata in a state of temporary darkness, until I turn on my Pip-Boy light. Sniffling, crying, moaning Amata is the only noise we have. Not even the moon can shine through these concrete walls.

"Will you shut _up_?"

I snap, looking around. There's nothing in here but the two of us. Concrete walls and floors, and one single door. It's locked, there's no need to try. Pushing myself against the furthest wall and into the furthest corner with my hands, I press my back against the rough concrete. Amata, still cries and cries like a blubbering idiot.

"Amata, shut up."

"We're…going…to…die."

She sobs, not thinking smart like me and turning on her light. I suppose that's good though. When I hear someone coming I'll turn my light off. Since I'm in the darkest corner in the furthest part of the room, they'll deal with Amata first and buy me time. Although, I'm not sure I want that plan. Amata will snitch. She's not very strong-willed.

"No, we're not."

Confused she looks at me. Annoyed, I sigh.

"We're going to get beaten, alright? They're going to want information on me, on our plans, on you, on everything. Then, they'll kill us. But, in the meantime we have a few minutes to figure out how to get out of this mess."

"How can you be so calm? You're injured."

"After a while, Amata, surviving blocks out anything. Now listen. Listen close, okay? They're going to hurt you. They're going to beat you up and possibly do things even a boyfriend wouldn't. Despite all that you _can't_ say anything. You can't give them what they want."

"If I do, though, won't they let me free?"

"No. Nothing you do aside from listening to me, will set you free. You have to trust me, Amata."

I can feel she doesn't believe me, and my words are wasted. Giving up I tinker a bit with my Pip-Boy. It helps clear my mind. They even took my smokes those stupid fools. Sighing I place the back of my head against the wall. There's noise outside, but it's nothing to worry about. I want to know where Charon is. I want to know what happened to Boone and if this is all going to be over with soon.

"Dez?"

In the midst of my thoughts, Amata softly calls my name.

"What?"

"I have…I need to tell you something…"

"Spit it out."

"…Last night…I'm sorry. Last night…Charon and I we…"

Amata never finishes her sentence. She lifts her head to look at me, as I sit in the light of my Pip-Boy, feeling a sense I've never felt before. My heart, stops in my chest. A mixture of anger, disbelief, and despair all at once. Amata…can't be telling me the truth. But, something tells me she is. Charon's change this morning, his absence last night, it makes perfect sense. No.

My shoulders droop forward, as reality sets in. Alone, with her, I sit in this cell, waiting for impending pain. Hearing this…I'm not sure, what I fear more. Looking at Amata who took all the attention in the vault and now Charon, or not dying by the end of the night. Charon's promises, now ring empty, and there's no comforting memory I can think of. Nothing, to keep me warm, and I shudder feeling the cold.

I tried to trust him. I did, too. I forgave and took him back but…but not this time. I know right now isn't the time to be thinking of this, but…what else is there? If I'm not fighting for a life with him and I, then what am I fighting for? What's the purpose of surviving this ordeal, if now there's no more light at the end of the tunnel?

"Dez? Are you alright?"

Ignoring her, I stare at the floor. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't hurt her. Looking at my hands, one soaked in blood, I try to collect my thoughts and focus only on living. But that's, easier said than done. I feel Amata's eyes burning into me.

"Are we going to die, Dez?"

Lifting my head, loud noises and metal scraping from the outside seals my answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

Inside steps in two Knights, and a third. Instantly they see my Pip-Boy light, but I can't care. Heavy footsteps coming closer, makes Amata cringe and come to hide beside me. I won't protect her. I cant.

"Well, well…look who's finally used up their nine lives."

McGraw's voice is above me, but I don't care to look.

"I'm not like Casdin or Lyons, Dezbe. I won't let you live for observation and information."

I don't care.

"You seemed to have brought friends with you, this time. What's her name?"

Just ask her.

"Not answering me? Well, that's fine. I suggest you relish these moments, because they're your last. I have business to attend, and knowing for myself you'll soon be out of my way is a bright thing. You've done enough damage, and now it ends. Are you going to tell me, how you're feeling? Or even ask as to where Charon vanished to?"

No.

"Very well then, remain silent. Men, do what you must but dispose of these two the second you are finished. I want to see the bullet between her eyes, before morning comes. Her friend here, too."

"No! No please!"

Amata cries out, pleading and begging. Doesn't she know? Doesn't she know that none of this matters anymore? That no amount of begging and crying and kicking will ever make this matter? I hear her, wailing and crying for another chance, then throwing me under the bus saying I threatened her into doing this. As I suspected, her pleas fall on deaf ears, as McGraw leaves. He closes the door behind him, and we're alone with the two Knights. I know what to expect. I'm just glad, I can't feel anything anymore.


	60. Who I've Been

(Charon)

I've been trained to deal with just this. This, as my body feels restricted with the ropes around it. I'm in a lit room, an interrogation room. They always look the same. A bright light, with a table and two chairs. I'm restrained to one of the two chairs, and I must admit that whomever tied these knots did so quite well. It doesn't mean, these ropes will hold me. It's just a matter of time, really. Taking a mercenary with my training and background and expecting some thin knots to keep him straight and obedient is a foolish thing to do. The Brotherhood, has no idea what it is, they're waking.

Three Knights stand with their guns aimed at me, but already I've plotted four different ways to disarm each of them with minimal harm to myself. Although they think they're smart, in surrounding me like this, in pressing the gun to my back and leading me here, they're not. It's only made the situation worse for them. With my eyes closed, I see all the images and haunting of my past. I hear my trainer screaming in my ear. For the first time, his voice is welcome, as I'm in the very position he trained me for.

"Ah, it's good to see you again, Charon."

Opening my eyes I see McGraw entering the rom. He has on standard Power Armor, an upgrade over his last worn and torn Outcast set. His helmet is beneath his arm, and a knife, pistol, and SMG adorn his waist. I suppose as the new leader of the Brotherhood of Steel, McGraw doesn't need the automatic assault weaponry so many of his troops carry. He's gone foolish, and stupid.

"Where's Dez?"

I ask, growling as my fingers cease working the knots. For as long as I've been sitting here, my training has been helping me. The guards he has, haven't even noticed, I'm almost halfway free.

"Let's not discuss that now."

McGraw talks to me. He makes me promises if I choose to work with him. He offers the world and things I can only imagine to be possible. There's questions he asks me, that I give no answer to. His men mercilessly hit me, trying to get me to talk. They soak me in hot water, in cold water, placed in buckets for easy transport. None of them have any idea, that my training in resisting interrogation was much, much worse, than these petty games they're playing. After each attempt, I smirk and stay quiet. My silence, enrages McGraw. But then, after forty-five minutes or so of this, something clicks in McGraw's mind. Something shifts, and cautiously I look at him.

"…I think, Charon, I may have a way to get you to talk."

I raise a sarcastic and curious eyebrow. McGraw stands up, his hands behind his back, and paces. What police novels has he been reading?

"If you cooperate, I may be able to save Dez for you."

"Where is she?"

I ask, my tone telling him that in order to gain my cooperation, he first has to cooperate with me.

"She's alive, or, I hope so. I left her and my friend in the company of my men. I suspect they're alive, but hating every minute of it. You see, Charon, it's been a long time for my soldiers. They're not allowed relations with the women who accompany them, it makes things too messy and personal issues at work are not allowed. I promised my men when we got here they could pick whatever woman they wanted. Promised the faltering West Coast faction they too, could have women and riches. It's been too long since then, and they've grown impatient."

He's not bluffing, and neither am I. My mind is lost, as my past and his words combine into one. I hear Dez's voice in the back of my mind, see her in her most vulnerable state. I feel her hot breath, the bed beneath us, and my name rings in my ears. She cries it out, as she always does, in pain, in pleasure, in hope and loss. The ropes fall from my body, and everyone in the room freezes up. Weapons, are at the ready.

"Charon, sit back down. Despite your value I won't hesitate to order my men to shoot."

I say nothing as I stand. Nothing, as I stare at him with cold eyes. I don't know who I am anymore, as I let the noise of my trainer's voice, block everything out in my mind. The left-hand side, I move fast. Grab the barrel, hit inside elbow, disarm, take weapon. Shoot from the right, not at vitals but at hands that hold guns. It cripples them, distracts the rest. I see an advantage, a Knight charges. The butt of the rifle breaks through his helmet. Dispose of each one, quickly, swiftly, I don't have much time.

One falls to the floor, wounded but not dead as there's two left. One disarmed, I shoot him. Three. Both armed men fire, their aim is distracted. Using the length of the gun rather than the gun itself, I knock the weapons away and out of their hands. Charging at them both, I use their helmets against them. Their necks break. I leave only one alive, and by now, McGraw has fled.

Searching them quickly, I grab ammunition and two grenades. The halls are thick with soldiers, but the halls are narrow. I am one man, trained for these moments, and this is a small army trained to fight other small armies. It's me, who has the advantage. I use it, wise, and knowing.

Remaining in the room, I hear soldiers leaving other rooms and charging. McGraw sent out communications through the helmet, I know. Pulling the pin from one grenade, I send it flying down the hall. Quickly, I close the door to the room and wait. A loud blast and cries of pain tell me I've hit my targets. They're dead if not crippled, and it makes my work a lot easier.

Move. Move, swift, move fast. Subject 0001284936, you have much at risk. Right foot, swift kick from behind, faster you could have been dead. Am I wasting my time, 0001284936? Do you find this funny? Left-hook, distract. Right arm, disable. The Knight falls down. Subject 0001284936 kill, and leave no evidence. Silence is key, 0001284936, silence is golden. Don't fire a weapon unless needed. Your hands are as deadly as any gun. Another Knight, 0001284936. Trip up, use butt of weapon to take out knees. Hold down, interrogate for employer information.

"Where _is_ Dezbe?"

I hiss in his ear, bending his arm over his back. Pushing his elbow up, it hurts him to move.

"Holding cells! Holding cells!"

Information received, remove obstacle. Snap arm, but leave alive. Step over, is that the best you can do? Ambush to your left, behind the door. Kick it open, element of surprise. Grab forearm, bend back thumb, press down on palm. Cries of their pain show you're doing your job correctly, 0001284936. Find your employer, protect, and rescue. It is your only objective, your only cause. Quickly, disengage and return to mission. Kill Knight and return to searching. Keep gun in hands, or easily accessible on back. Do _not_ lose your weapon, Subject 0001284936. Are you trying to get caught? Swift, silent, you're training to be the deadliest weapon, 0001284936. Do not let us down, 0001284936. Bring back your employer, alive. Do not fail. It is not in your training, to fail.

I navigate the halls. The holding cells are in the basement, I have to find the steps. My trainer's voice is unrelenting. I don't know my name. I can't remember. I simply now I must find Dezbe, my employer. I must not allow any more harm, or any more Knights, to get to her. I have to move fast, quick. Screams and cries from my memory brings me back, as more blood is stained into my hands. Someone shoots me but the pain doesn't register. I have stimpacks. I'll survive.

_Subject 0001284936 you are trained to react to high-stress situations. Interrogation, capture, infiltration, annihilation, these are your strong points. Hand-to-hand, close range are you best choice of combat. You are trained, subject, to kill. Your prime and only purpose is to serve, protect, and obey your employer. Their life rests in your hands, to fail or falter or even hesitate for a second, is not an option. Severe punishment will be met, if any of these things happen. You're best bet is to infiltrate anything at nightfall. We've trained you to tread quickly, and quietly. Your eyes are sharp, subject, your body strong. We're trusting you in this._

_ No other subject has completed this course. They've died and failed before you. You are the first. There is no one in any known military, stronger, faster, more efficient or more deadly, than you. Do not let this get to your head, subject. There is still room for error, there will _always_ be room for error. Subject, are you paying attention? Disarm and rid yourself of that soldier. Take his ammunition, good, good._

_ Move now, the steps below are coming up. Do not make noise, slow. Slowly, subject slow. Take the gun, use it. Two-handed weapons are your specialty as well. Do not use small arms. Stay against the wall, 0001284936. We gave you the dark armor, so you would not be seen. So you could remain in the shadows. Sneak quietly now, good. You're performing well, subject. Further than I have ever expected. There, now, take him out. Leave no noise, leave no trace. There will be time, later, for celebration. _

_ More of them, no, no subject do not use the last grenade. Stay where you are, they won't see you. Good, very well. You hardly need me, you react faster than I speak. I have done well with you, very well indeed. They've passed you, just as I knew they would. I suppose you also knew that. I can see, why you're such a commodity to them. The last living being, of an organization more powerful than any world army. Single-handedly able to kill soldiers in their home-base. I never knew, subject, you would prove to exceed any and all expectations of your superiors. You have done well, subject. Very, very well._

I hold my breath. I keep quiet as I hear noise down the hall. Each cell is sealed by a strong, metal door. I don't need to check every room. The only room I need to enter, is the room that has the light shining from under it. If there's still Knights inside, then they've turned on the light. Light, will seep through the crack below the door. It would be a waste to make noise, by checking every one.

My feet tread lightly, my breath quiet and deep. I close my eyes, listening. A small scrape down the hall, to the right, last door, echoes. It's metal scraping concrete. The sound of a wrist-computer dragging against the grayscale floors. The light in the hall is dim, but it works to my advantage. One foot directly in front of the other, almost looks as if I'm overlapping them. Yet it keeps them in pace, it keeps my boots from making any solid sound.

"You should try this one, ha! Rich!"

Voices stir anger inside me. I move faster, swifter, above me Knights and Initiates scatter in a frenzy. It is the least of my worries. Getting to the door I do not hesitate, there is no room or time to. I kick it open, I see a man clad in armor. I waste no time. Wrapping my arm around his midsection I curl his waist into my elbow, and force him off and against the wall. His helmetless head slams against the concrete. I help his head, properly hit the wall once more. Again, until he's nothing short of dead and out of my way. Another man pulls his weapon and fires. A bullet hits my back, but does not slow me down. I turn to him, I charge.

Knocking him over his head ends up beneath my boot. I raise my foot, I slam it down. Bones breaking fills the silence. It echoes loud throughout the halls. I hear nothing but my own breathing, my own rage. I don't know, who I am.

"Charon…"


	61. 24

(Dez)

He comes into the room. He rips the Knight from me first, and then goes to the other one. I can't really register right now, what's going on. Between my helplessness, the pain in my thigh, and all that's just happened my mind is numb. Blood leaks from my mouth, after a few hits too hard to the jaw. The Knight wasn't kidding, when he said to shut up. My entire body hurts, I couldn't lift myself up even if I wanted to. All I can do is turn my head, and look at Charon's back. He stands, with the second Knight dead at his feet. Amata and her torn jumpsuit curls into the corner, scared, bloody, and in pain just like me.

"Charon…"

I say, weakly. He turns around and stares at me. Who I see, in the light of my Pip-Boy, is not Charon. I'm not sure who I'm looking at, but his eyes are different. He strides over to me, without the familiar air of comfort around him. Is it because of what I know between him and Amata? No, no it's not. His hand grabs my forearm, and pulls me up. With brute force he slams me against the wall and I remember what he said to me just a few nights ago. I'm not scared of him.

"Charon…Charon…"

Tears spill down my face as he keeps me pinned. I'm the only thing, he's ever hesitated with. The only thing in his life he's ever second-guessed. There's no way, he'll hurt me. I look in his eyes, his hands pressing my body into the wall as if it's some warm and soft object. It hurts, it hurts but I can't give up.

"It's me, Charon…it's Dez…"

Nothing, he keeps pushing. But he hasn't killed me. His mind, is making him wait because deep down he knows it's me. I just have to show him. Lifting a weak arm, struggling to do so, I wrap my hand around his wrist. I move my head and sigh, as my fingers graze his knuckles through his fingerless gloves.

"Charon…look."

I show him the scar on my neck, I show him the reminder of his past and right when I do, he drops me. The pressure that was forcing me into the wall stops, the pain stops and all I can feel is throbbing numbness. Who was that man, staring back at me? Charon blinks, looking at me for a minute. He tries to register my face, and it takes a few long seconds for him to recognize me.

"…Dez…"

He sighs and wraps his powerful arms around me. It's then I notice the blood. Blood, soaks his entire front, and I pull away in worry.

"Charon, you're hurt!"

He shakes his head, digging for something in his pockets.

"Not mine."

Not his? Then who? How many…how many people did he kill? What happened to him? I figure these are questions for later, as Charon pulls out a few stimpacks.

"No radiation, stimpacks."

I nod and he shoots me in the leg, noticing fast it's the most vital part that needs caring to. It heals, but not as fast as the radiation would. And not only that but there's still blood and a bullet in there. I can walk, but not as well as I need to be. Charon helps me up, after he gives himself a few stimpacks. The shot on my arm isn't needing medical attention right now, since I can still use it and wield a gun. It's better we leave it till later.

"Wait."

I tell him, deciding to leave my feelings of hurt and animosity for later. Rushing to Amata, who by now has curled into a ball, I wrap my arms around her.

"Listen to me, listen. I know, okay? You're hurting, this is horrible, what they did, was horrible, but if you want to live, Amata, you have to get up. You have to get a grip. Push it way deep down inside of you, can you do that? Push it down, and swallow hard. You need to get up. I can't leave you here. Come on."

To my surprise, Amata nods. Shakily, I help her stand up. I give her a stimpack, even though I'm not positive if she needs one. Either way, it's better to be safe than sorry. Quickly, we get her vault suit back together and in working order. Her cheeks are dirty, and the tears left clean stains on her face. She looks at me, still scared, still shaken up and probably horribly traumatized.

"Charon came back…"

I nod, giving a reassuring smile even though I'm nearly as scared and nervous and mentally fucked up as her.

"He always does. It's okay, come on."

I help her out of the room, and by the time we make it halfway down the hall she's able to walk. Charon stays ahead of us, silent, domineering. What's going on with him? What's changed? I can't worry about that now, though. I have to remember the plan, I have to make sure this _never_ happens to us again. That this…this event, these people, never see tomorrow.

"Charon they took my stuff, we need to find it."

He looks back, and gives me a knowing nod. I know I can't do this without him. I can't do this, without him protecting me. Leaving Amata's side I rush to Charon and stop him from going up the steps just yet.

"Look at me!"

I scream at him. One of the straps on my top is torn off, my pants are shredded and there's dried blood from my arm all over my chest. Charon looks at me, his eyes meeting mine.

"I can't do this without you. If you're not going to be here tomorrow, if you're not committed to me and me only, leave now. Leave here with her, and let me stay. I'll do it on my own."

Charon blinks at me, but says nothing. He drops the weapon, finally coming back to himself.

"What are you doing? Charon! Get that gun _right now_! We're at war! Put me down!"

I kick and flail my arms and legs as he wraps his arms around my body. He lifts me up into the air and pulls me into his chest. My head meets the nape of his neck as he dips his head on my shoulder. I hear him sigh, and when his hot breath reaches my skin, the world around is useless. Amata, the Brotherhood, it's all useless. They're nothing, this world, nothing, compared to the world I want so badly to have with Charon.

"Dez…"

Before he can finish saying much of anything, we're distracted. My feet are placed back on the ground, as a high-pitched sound comes through speakers of an intercom. Not high enough to where it would hurt our ears, but enough to make one curious and alert. Looking past Charon and at Amata, I can tell she hears it too, and looks around for the source.

"What _is_ that?"

She asks me and I shrug. At least she has it together. I was worried about her. She doesn't know what I know. Doesn't know how to make yourself numb, how to block it out and make it so you can't feel a thing. As lucky as I am to be able to do that, the only reason I know how is because of what I've been through. When you're kidnapped by Talons, Brotherhood, Enclave, anyone, really, you know methods. Your mind, after so many times of it, learns simply to block it out. Knows, that there's a place and a time for everything. I'm sure tomorrow or if and when we get out of here, what happened in that room with bother me. Not now, they won't, because I'm only looking to survive now. And when they do bother me, it'll be for a short time. Because, like everything, I'll learn to accept it.

The noise continues on for a moment, and I catch a look at Charon's face. It's stricken with horror, fear, really.

"What is it?"

I ask, a bit scared. Charon looks at me, I've never…never seen him scared before. Charon, I didn't even know, you could feel that. Didn't ever think, anything, was frightening enough to put fear into him. But I guess, there is. Soon, the noise turns to a voice, and this voice, makes Charon literally shake.

"Subject 0001284936 has been disobedient in his training these days. No one suspected any less or more, but I must say I'm disappointed to have been assigned to him. He's a runt, for lack of a better term. Smaller than the other boys, and lighter by twenty pounds at least. I highly doubt, this subject will progress if at all within these grounds."

I've never before, heard the voice of Charon's mysterious trainer until today. Until right now, I've never even thought of it. Never imagined, that old and worn recordings, still existed. But they do, and the effect it has on Charon, is fearful. He shakes, his hands, violently so. He looks at the speakers dazed, lost, his eyes glazed over. I know that look. I know it because it's been on my own face so many times before. Although the voice has stopped, it's only been replaced with that of McGraw's.

"I wonder how well you'll do against my troops, Dezbe, with your mercenary crippled."

Crippled? I look at Charon, and see he has his back to the wall, looking around.

"Charon it's not _real_!"

I stomp my foot, as the recording begins once more.

"We're three weeks into the training, and 0001284936 has not yet improved in the least. He is reckless, disorderly, and already undergone twice as many disciplinary punishments for his failures as the rest of the others in his age-group. If 0001284936 does not improve, I will be forced to remove him from the system permanently. His lack of effort, his showing of confusion and plain stupidity to the world effects badly on his training."

"Charon, cover your ears. Don't listen."

I say calm and stern over the continuing recording of the what I believe is journal entries. Charon can't hear me, and I know it's because of his past. That look, that look is nothing more, than his past reflecting as moving pictures before his eyes. He's useless right now, and that's exactly what McGraw wants.

"Dez, what do we do? What's going on?"

It's on me, now. On me to take control of the situation. I have to protect him, and Amata, and put myself in the shoes and role Charon would always take. It's about time, I show him, I can do it all for him, too.

"Amata, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

"What's wrong with Charon? What's wrong with him?"

"Amata, stop. Listen to me. Take this."

I take the gun Charon's dropped and hand it to her.

"I have to help Charon, we have to get him out of here. I'll get you both to where it's safe, and you need to watch him, can you do that? Amata, can you keep him safe?"

"What's wrong with him?"

She's panicking. Charon's bent over as the recordings play out mercilessly, narrating the training and memories Charon has from his past. There's no way, either one of them will be able to do this. I don't even know how I can. Quickly changing my plan, I take the gun and pull Amata over to Charon.

"Charon, listen. Listen to me, Amata and I are here. Remember us? Remember? Amata, here, put your arms around him. No matter what, do _not_ let him go. You need to guide him, you need to follow me."

"O-okay."

She wraps her arms around the hunched-over Charon. Putting my foot on the first step, I look back. She's able to guide him, good. As long as he's safe, I don't care if she has to fuck him in front of me at this point. Whatever she's whispering in his ear is making him move, and slowly, we begin our ascent.

"0001284936 has gained acceptance into the higher-levels. His ability to handle a weapon and engage in hand-to-hand combat is extraordinary. Like nothing we've seen before. Although he still lacks in listening, 0001284936 is progressing well with his physical training. His body is slowly transforming into something far greater than what we've ever been offered before and I'm excited to see where it leads."

Making it to the top of the steps, I look back. Charon and Amata are close behind. Good, he's at least able to walk. Looking around I see an array of dead soldiers, laying motionless on the floor. Never, in all my life, have I seen something like this. Was this all, the work of Charon? All single-handedly done, by simply him? What kind of danger, do I really have with me? Amazed, shocked, and worried, I stare for a minute at the dead bodies. When I'm able to get my bearings I step up and on solid ground. Behind me, Amata gasps and is in more shock than I.

"It's alright, they're dead."

I tell her as we walk through the empty halls. I know this hall, and I know there's an exit around here somewhere. If I can either find McGraw, find my explosives, or find a way to get Charon out safely, it'll end fine. If none of those things happen soon, then we're all fucked.

"Dez…Dez something's wrong!"

The noise of the recording crackles, what sounds like doors opening fills the air.

"0001284936! You have deliberately _disobeyed orders_! All the progress you have made is _nothing_ if you cannot _follow orders_! Do you understand?"

Oh, oh shit. I look up at the speakers, and then at Charon. His eyes are wide, he stares at nothing. He shakes, his entire body, as if it's all vibrating.

"Yes."

Charon's human voice echoes throughout the halls. It's a younger voice, and I expect this is when he was just in his late teens. I'm fearing the worst, for this one. If Charon does all this from a flicked switch of rage, I can only imagine, what hearing his past does to him.

"Amata, take this, take him straight down the hall and _don't stop_. Don't look back, just _run_."

"But…but.."

"And don't let go of him! Go, go _now_!"

I push her down the hall with her arms still wrapped around Charon. If I leave this base, this building, then everything will be for nothing.  
"Don't let him come back in here! No matter what, _get him out_!"

She stares at me, horrified as I shove the gun into her hands. I see her throat bob, and she nods at me with tears in her eyes. Taking a firm hold on Charon's forearm, she pulls him out. She has to take care of him now, and fuck, I hope this is the right thing to do.

"Do you understand the damage you've done? The costly expenses you've _wasted_!"

The voice scolds Charon, scolds him as I watch Amata and Charon vanish from sight. Once they're gone, through the exit, screams of pain and torture ring from the speakers. McGraw made a smart move, but I've made a smarter one. Disabling Charon does nothing, but piss me the fuck off.

Grabbing a gun from a dead Knight, I look around. Blocking out the voices, I hope McGraw keeps them playing. It tells me he has no idea, Charon's gotten out and now the trio is down to one. The entire hall has rooms, and open doors. McGraw, I assume, has his office on this level. Why would he put it any higher? This is the first floor, the ground floor, and I still have the detonator with me. Those stupid fucks didn't see it as a weapon, didn't know what it was. Gob disguised it wisely, as nothing more, than a lump of steel with a button on it. I'm taking a risk here, but Charon's taken many for me. If I can't find McGraw before he cuts off the recordings, I have no choice to hit the detonator, whether I'm inside or not.

Stepping over the sea of bodies, I look into each room. Each one holds next to nothing, some terminals, some notes, but nothing extreme. I make a deal with myself, that if I can't find anything by the end of this hall, then I'll hit the detonator.

"Dezbe!"

Smirking sadistically to myself, I hear McGraw's voice behind me. Slowly, I turn. I turn around, gun in hand, and smirk at him.

"Did you bring me anything nice to play with, McGraw?"

"It seems my men have failed me, yet again. You're living on borrowed time."

"Just tell me where my things are and I'll be sure to be on my way."

He laughs at me, and I fold my arms. In doing so I grab the detonator from my belt. If it's a war he wants, a war he's gonna get.

"Like I'd let you walk out that easy. The girl who destroyed nearly all the Brotherhood has worked for. The girl who infiltrated us time and time again only to escape by the skin on her teeth."

"I think I know what I've done, thanks."

"You're not leaving this time, Dezbe. If I have to kill you myself to make sure of that, so be it."

"Oh…you drive a hard bargain, McGraw. Say you know where Charon's gun is? He's seemed to misplace it."

"Speaking of which, where has he gone? Left him behind, I assume."

I shake my head, smiling wide and channeling the person I was when I left the vault.

"Oh no. No, Charon's off the property by now. He's not going to like it, when he hears you've killed me."

"He won't be able to get within a foot of the dirt that's around this place."

"And why's that?"

"I have my methods."

Sighing, I shake my head.  
"Look this is fun, but it's getting old. Are you going to give me my shit and let me leave, or no?"

McGraw smiles back, and brings something off of his back. It's Charon's pack. Inside, the explosives. Quickly I look around me. We're on the ground floor, somewhere in the middle maybe a few feet off. The combination of all three in such close proximity, will give off one hell of an explosion. It'll kill McGraw, and take out the center if not destroy a good chunk of this place. I'm not looking to take out the entire building, if I can at least debilitate it, that's enough. Just make it, so they can _never_ come here again. So when they're leader dies, every other Knight, Paladin, and Scribe will know do not fuck with the Capital Wasteland.

"Let you leave? Ha! Is this what you're after, Dez? There's nothing in here but worthless scrap metal!"

It's not unusual, that McGraw wouldn't recognize Gob's creations as explosives. Want to know why? He put them inside hand-made children's toys. One, a teddy bear, the other a lunchbox, and the third into a toy car he specifically made large enough to hold all the things needed for a small artillery. One of the reasons why I asked him. Because Gob isn't a soldier, never was, never has been. His idea, is to make a bomb kid-friendly. McGraw is too stuck in his ways, to understand that. See I told you there's a reason for all I do. Stupid.

"I guess since you put it that way, no you can hang on to it."

"You had better start praying, Dez, because you're not taking another step alive."

"Well and fine with me, McGraw. Same for you, too."

He's confused and I move fast. Flipping the top of the capsule that's really the detonator upwards, I smile at him. His eyes, grow wide at the sight of the big, red, button.

"No…No!"

My thumb presses down hard. McGraw's face is horrified, as in slow-motion I see spits of flame and smoke. I'm guaranteed death at this point, but in my life all is said and done. Charon's safe, he's in good hands with a woman who I'm sure can take care of him. I'm not concerned really with Boone but in the end, I'm thinking he evaded capture. It's none of my care or concern, really. With the heat of the flames and gunpowder flowing nearer and nearer, I close my eyes and wait. I've done my part. Just remember, when you're feeling lonely, Charon, you can think of me. I'll keep you company.


	62. Far Away

(Charon)

Amata urges me through the doors. I can't think, I can't move. I wouldn't be able to even stand if he arms weren't supporting me. Crashing through the doors, she keeps pulling me, as if I'm a ragdoll. I feel like one, because of all the things racing through my mind and crippling me. It's been two-hundred and more years, since I've heard my trainer's voice. Since those memories have been released and since I've felt the same bout of fear as I felt back then. I was defenseless against it, as I always was. There was no way, I'd be able to move or function.

But as we get further and the noise begins to grow faint, I find myself again. I find my mind, my body, I feel it all as if I'm new. Stopping my moving feet, I hear nothing but the silence of the world around me. My mind is quiet, the memories gone, the voice, gone.

"Charon…Charon please…please…"

Amata sobs tugging at me. Standing straight, I look at her. She's filthy with dust, dirt, and tears stream down her face. In her hands the assault rifle I picked up from a Knight. Blinking, I sigh, as I find my voice.

"Amata…wait."

She's shocked to hear my voice and lets go of my arm. The gun falls from her hands as she sits on the dirt. It takes me a bit, to get my eyes to focus to the dark surroundings. Behind Fort Independence, that's where we are. A few hundred yards away, we're out of harm's reach. I search for Dez with my eyes, the past few moments nothing but a blur.

"Where's Dezbe?"

Amata looks up at me, she sobs and I feel the need to comfort her. Where ever Dez is, I'm hoping she's safe. Knowing her, she's behind fighting someone. I tell myself that, as I crouch down and pat Amata's back.

"It's alright, Amata. Tell me, tell me where's Dez?"

"She…she…she stayed behind…"

"She's inside? She's still in the fort?"

Amata nods as she hides her face in her hands. I don't have time to ask any more questions, when a loud popping sound pierces through me. I turn, in time to see, the fort engulfed in smoke. That isn't regular smoke, no. That smoke is from dust being scattered around, and the bright orange light that emits from it, is the bright orange that comes from explosives. No.

"Get down!"

I yell and cover Amata's body with my own. We're hit with a blast, but it's not strong enough to cause severe harm. As soon as it passes, I lift my head to see the fort shake. It shakes, violently, before it caves in on itself. The building that Dez wanted so badly to destroy, has been demolished to say the least. Only things standing, are the walls on either side of it. The blast began in the center. It caved in, and I watch it all unfold in terror.

"No!"

I yell, getting to my feet. I know if I get any closer, I'll die. I watch in shock, as the still-standing walls lose support. Slowly, they crumble on themselves, dust, concrete, flies from it as the pressure acts the same way a barrel does for a gun. Clouds of dust lift in the air, and the wind scatters it every which way. I have to raise my hands to keep my face safe.

Amata said Dez stayed behind. Dez, she had the detonator. It was me who carried the explosives, me. The blast came from the _inside_, came from…from the ground level I know this. I know because it's my training. My own ability to see and analyze such situations. Inside…inside no, please don't let it be true. If she was still inside, when pressing that button then she's died by now. Caught in the blast there's no way to survive that. I hope, I pray, she wasn't that stupid. Wasn't that insolent as to do something so desperate. Yet…yet something tells me, she very much was.

When the dust clears enough for me to faintly make out the structure, I run for it. Towards it, through the dust my lungs fill with, and to the edge of the wreckage. Before me once stood a three-story building, just moments ago. It's now reduced, to near dust, rubble, and a few slabs of broken glass and concrete. My heart beats in horror, as dead bodies lie bloody and filthy amidst the chaos and crumble. They're clad in armor, clad in silver and some in robes of red. Frantic, I lose my head.

Without knowing what I'm doing, without giving it any just cause or reason, I begin to move the bodies. I move them, and sift away at the layers of rubble as the heat from the explosion against them makes my fingers burn. I brush a hot piece of steel and it's as if the pain doesn't phase me. Where is she? Where? Was she even inside? Amata said she stayed behind, but how far? If she were any closer, if she wasn't inside, I would have seen her by now. But I didn't, I didn't and that leaves only one solution.

Why? What the hell were you thinking? Dez, how could you be so…so _stupid_? There's no way, no logical way I can think, as to why she'd detonate it from the _inside_. Unless it was do or die then…then I don't know. I can't think straight, as I move my feet over the mess. My eyes scan and if I see a glimpse of anything that may be her, I inspect it.

"Charon! You're not going to find her! Let's run!"

Amata calls to me and I can't stand it.

"Shut up! Shut up just stop!"

She's not right. She's wrong. Dez is alive and I'll find her. I'll find her and…and oh…oh, no. No, no. I see an arm. A small, frail, ballerina-size arm protruding from beneath a small piece of concrete. No, please, no. Those dirty, bloody fingers, their form and shape, don't let it be I beg you. Rushing over, I lift the slab up. It's nothing, it weighs _nothing_. It can't kill her, it shouldn't.

When it falls to the side I don't hesitate to bend down. I bend down, and I can't speak. Tears, they fill my eyes. I don't want to even look at this. This…this…being. She's black from gunpowder, which means…she was in range. She…stood so close to them. What happened? I'm scared to even touch her. I feel my stomach churn but I hold back. If there's any chance left, any more lives we can spare please, give it to her. Kill me, if you must, but please…

Falling to my knees, the world around me is quiet. My fingertips, graze hers so gently. She lays here, in front of me, with her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? I hope, I pray. My little girl, my shining light, my star. She lays here, in front of me in plain view. To my touch, as my fingers touch hers, she doesn't move. Doesn't wake, doesn't jerk. No, please. I watch her, searching for a sign of life, but seeing none. None, as the seconds turn into minutes.

A cold wind, reminds me of the seasons. I look at her, and I can't…feel anything. Black powder, dust, and blood, covers her body. Her shirt is burned, reduced to nothing but rags. Her pants, in no better condition. Shakily, I reach out my hand to touch her face. Moving her head, I let it go and it drops back down. No, she's…she can't be. Her long arms, her long legs, they're so perfect. Perfection like this…it can't be killed. It simply can't be.

"Dez…"

I say, hoping…hoping she'll answer. But she doesn't, and I pound my fists on the concrete. No. No, please. We had a life planned. There was supposed to be me, her and a home. We talked of a future, of a place just for us, of a possible family. All of this, was so close. It was so close, we could practically see it. She can't leave me. She can't…up and just…just die this easy. No, she can't.

Gently, softly and with a bit of fear, I wrap my arms around her body. Lifting her, I'm careful to support her head. Like, like she did with Zack when he was just a small baby. A newborn, basically. I hold her head and guide her limp and frail body into my arms. Stroking her face, I wipe away some of the grime and dirt. I see her skin beneath it, and I hold her close.

"Dez…Dez I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you please…please forgive me I'm sorry. I never meant to do those things to you. I never meant to hurt you. You're beautiful, okay? Okay, you're perfect. You're the best thing, that I've ever come across. God you're annoying and selfish and loud and brazen but you're so beautiful. You're perfect. Please…please listen to me. You're the only reason I have, Dez. I changed entirely, I changed and it's all because of you. You're my reason for beginning new, don't leave me now. Don't leave me like this, there's nothing for miles. No radiation please, if you open your eyes I'll…I'll do whatever I can just…just don't leave me…I can't be alone…please…let me take it all back…Come back…come back."

But she doesn't. As my tears leave clear dots on her face, Dez doesn't come back. She lays in my arms, silent, motionless, and cooling as the heat leaves her body. I curl my legs around her, creating a protective shell.

"They won't hurt you anymore…they won't…I'll keep you safe please…"

I bury my face in her neck, not caring anymore. I don't care, how pitiful this may look. How weak, and sad this sight is. I've lost her. I've lost…lost the only being I've ever…ever loved. Ever cared about more than my contract, my training, my own life. She was my discovery, into a side of me I never knew existed. She was the driving force, in all I did. In all I ever wanted to do, all I ever discovered, it all began with her. How can this happen? How, in all of our adventures and endeavors, can it end so swiftly and suddenly?

In my arms, is the body and shell of a woman who was once the world to me. Who still, in every right, is. I cry, my tears falling on her cooling body, making small clear trails. She made me swear and promise, that I'd never die before her, and it seems I've kept that promise. Against my wishes, my wants and desires, I've allowed her to go. The only sense of relief and comfort I feel I have, is knowing she's spared this horrible, agonizing pain.

I wish I was there, still. Beside her, holding her hand as she continues on whatever journey awaits us after life. Not being beside her, hurts me more than losing her. I want to be there, I want to comfort her and tell her it's okay. It's not fair, that I'm allowed to stay and her to go. We've seen so much, been through all there is to be through, and more. Why, is she ripped from me now? Why? Clinging to her tighter and tighter, I sob.

"Please…please…"

I know my words mean nothing. I know, my pleas don't hold any water. She's not here to listen to them, not here to wrap her arms around me, and whisper in my ear. Those days are long-gone, lost, and now only a memory. No, I didn't want her to become a simple memory. She's worth, so much more than that. I don't want to think back and see her only as I remember. My mind is so old, I know soon I'll forget the etchings and traces and outline of her face. Forget the things that make her so beautiful, and so unique. I can't forget her, she's too beautiful, I just want her to open her eyes. Open them, so I can create more memories with her. So we can laugh this away and go home.

"Dez, Dez please…"

Crying loudly, her body muffles the pain. It muffles it from the distance, and makes it soft and contained. I don't care how this looks, I don't care what any passersby think. Just one more kiss, just one hopeful breath, in case it's there. In case there's one left. I love her, I love her so much I can't…I can't…

"I've loved you…since I first saw you, Dez…please don't go…since I first saw you, I loved you…"

Just one more breath. Just one more, kiss and hug and hold hand. I'll give anything, all I have, to just have her back with me. I'll give my leg, my arm, I don't care just don't take her away. Don't take us away. If I can just hear her say, that she loves me. That she'll come back to me, that she forgives me. I'll listen, I'll sit here for as long as I have to, just to have her back.

"You said you'd never leave…you said…you promised…don't…"

I believed, with all my heart, she'd be with me. With me, until our last, dying breath. That I'd never have to spend another minute away from her, that I'd never have to wake, to an empty space as long as I lived. Never did I want to see this, to see her and hold her motionless body in my arms.

"Charon?"

A hand on my shoulder. It's not Dez's, I know this, but I want it to be, so badly. Lifting my head, I see Amata staring down at me. I say nothing, I can't speak to her. I just look back down at Dez's lifeless body, and brush my fingers through her hair.

"Is she…is she dead?"

Amata asks, and I nod. I hear her gasp, and she falls to her knees beside me.

"Charon I'm…I'm so sorry I…oh…"

She begins to sob next to me. I don't want to offer comfort to her, because I can't even comfort myself.

"Can't we bring her to radiation? Will that help?"

Amata asks me, in a desperate plea to save the girl, who saved her life. It should be Amata in Dez's place. She should have been the one, to hit the detonator, to die here. Not Dez. No, not her.

"It won't help, Amata. It won't…bring her back."

She begins to sob again, and I cradle Dez as I look down at her. I won't leave her body here. When I find the strength, I'll carry her back to Megaton. I'll ask Gob for help, and together the two of us will find a place deserving of her burial. He saw her into this world, the Capital Wasteland, it's only fit, that he sees her out of it, too.


	63. In a World so Cold

(Dez)

When I open my eyes, all I see is a bright light. It's warm, and it's really strong, but it's nice. For a minute, the light is so bright it blinds me. Getting my bearings, I'm able to open my eyes and actually see things. I move my body, and nothing on me hurts. Nothing, indicates what I've just done. No pain, no burning, no anything. I feel good, great, even. When I'm able to focus my vision, I look up, to see a blue sky. There's big, fluffy white clouds there, too, and a warm, warm sun.

Sitting up, I realize I've been laying on something soft. I look down to see it's green. Green, lush, and soft. Grass. Around me, grass blocks out any sight or indication I may need to figure out where I am. It's long, and swaying in a warm breeze. Somehow, even though I don't know where I am, I don't feel so scared. I feel…as if…it's all alright. Standing, I look around. It's green, long grass for miles and miles. I smile, because it's peaceful. Looking down I notice I'm still wearing the ragged clothes I was before. My shirt, ripped next to nothing and my pants aren't much better. I guess you can't ask for it all in paradise.

Running my fingers over the tips of the grass, I smile. There's no worries here, wherever here is. I'm about to start walking, to help figure out if I've literally blasted myself to the ends of the world, when I hear someone call my name.

"Dezbe!"

Turning, I see him. He stands tall, and smiling at me. Dad.

"Dad!"

I run at him, and throw my arms around him. My mother appears beside him, smiling wide and embracing me. I hold them both in my arms, crying tears of joy. I've missed them, so very, very much.

"I missed you."

I say, pressing my face into my mother's chest. She laughs and smoothes down my hair.

"You've grown so big, child."

Her voice is so beautiful. I lift my head and let my arms fall from them. I stare at both my parents, and realize how much I look like both of them. Her eyes. I have, my mother's eyes. My dad, looks at me, so proud.

"What are you guys doing here?"

The question is stupid and the second I say it I feel stupid, even. My father grazes my cheek with his hand, cupping my chin.

"Ah, Dez. You've grown so much, and done more than your mother and I could ever imagine."

"You mean you're not mad? I broke up the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Child, that doesn't matter to us. We're just so proud, of who you've become."

My mother tells me, in that beautiful voice of hers. I blink, as my father pulls his hand away. I've left them before, and I don't want to leave them now.

"Do I have to go away? You always make me go away…"

Pouting I channel my inner child. Both of them sigh at me, and it makes my pout turn into a smile.

"Not if you don't want to. You can stay here with us."

Looking at my dad, I nod.

"I think I'd like that, daddy. I've missed you two. I want to stay."

"Honey don't be so quick."

"Say where's Charon? Is he here, too?"

My mother and father look at one another. They exchange thoughtful glances, and my mother wraps her arms around me. Pulling me into a hug, I let her smell and touch engulf and surround me.

"No, honey. He isn't here, and he won't be here, for a long, long time."

"What? Why?"

"His life isn't over just yet."

Pulling away from my mother, I look at my parents in shock.

"Wait…wait I'm _dead_?"

Solemnly, they nod.

"I'm afraid so."

"But…but mum what about Charon? I can't leave him. I don't want to."

"You can return home, if it's what you truly want. Charon won't be here until his time, and even then there's no guarantee he'll arrive. It all depends, on who it is he misses most. Perhaps his own family, will be waiting to greet him."

Life after death, without Charon. Is that even a paradise worth going to? Is that even a paradise worth living in? Looking around the beautiful grassy fields, the giant, weeping trees that flourish, and the blue skies, I hear a river far off in the distance. This beauty isn't even comparable to the Capital Wasteland. It's the place I've always dreamed of, the place I've always desired to go to. And now, I'm here, but yet…yet it feels so empty. But, I don't know, if I want to stay or if I want to go. Would it all be better, if I stayed? For everyone?

"Mom, Dad? If I stay, what will life be like for everyone else?"

"We can't say. Things like that, aren't fully known yet."

My father says, and I look down at my feet. I'm filthy, with the dust and powder from the blast.

"But if I go back…will I have the life I want? With Charon?"

"Again, we don't know."

"What can you tell me then, dad? I just want to do what's right. What's right by Charon. He wants a family, you know. I'm not sure, though. I'm not even sure, if I should go back. I like it here. It's warm."

"These are choices you have to make on your own. We can't help answer them, but we can help guide you."

My mother's voice rings true, and I look at her. I've never been blessed with a mother's wisdom, and now I have it. I look into her deep, dark eyes and I smile a bit.

"What should I do, mom?"

"Whatever your small heart desires, child. You're young, you're beautiful, you have a man who would give his life for you. There's a home waiting, and a future there. Yet here, you have peace, serenity, and all that is good and warm and comforting. Giving it up, to return to the world you know, is a risk. It's a matter, on what you love and desire more."

I don't know what I love more, what I desire more. There has to be a way for me to see, for me to know.

"Can I see him, a last time? To help me choose?"

"No, honey."

"But you see me, you watch me."

"Because we have already chosen."

"Mom this isn't fair."

Both of my parents laugh and look at one another.

"She's like you, Catherine. Headstrong, spoiled and stubborn."

"I'm not spoiled, dad."

"Tell you what, kiddo, I'll help you out."  
"How can you do that, dad?"

He smiles at me, and sighs. I feel like he should be smoking a tobacco pipe. I'll make a mental note to have one on me next time. It's almost always I end up dying.

"Charon is a man of admirable morality. He loves you, Dez, more than I've ever seen a man love a woman."

"Then what's with the whole Amata thing, huh?"

My mother gives a stern sigh.

"Dezbe, even in paradise you complain. The bottom line, is you must choose to stay, or to return to the world. There isn't time, and soon your choice will be made for you. Wasting it on petty thoughts is not an option. Do what's in your heart."

She sounds just like me, and I smile big at her. I see now, where I get my headstrong persona. Taking a look around this world, I see that it's beautiful. But, in all of its beauty with my parents beside me, it's still so empty. Empty, because Charon isn't here to share this beauty with me. Maybe…maybe if he was, I'd be able to appreciate it more than I am now. I guess that's a sign. A sign, that tells me, even in death I still pine and want nothing but him.

"I'll decide, if you tell me if I can have a future with him. If I'll be able to give him all he wants and everything I want, too."

My parents nod at one another, feeling this is a fair deal. I never thought I'd be arguing life and death, literally, with my folks. Well, we're an interesting bunch of characters now, aren't we?

"Somehow, yes. We can't disclose how, or the ending to it all, but we can say this isn't where it ends. The future can always change, Dezbe. Just as if you choose to stay, your future ends, and everyone else's changes. But, if you return and do right by you and who you love, then it'll all be, in the end, okay."

"If I go back, I won't remember any of this, will I mum?"

"You may, you may not. It depends on you."

Sighing, I smile.

"I'd love to stay, but without Charon, it just feels empty. Seeing you was great, I miss you a lot, but…I can't let Charon go on, while I sit here happy on a cloud."

Both of them smile, and embrace me.

"You've done the right thing, child. Your deeds won't go unnoticed."

"I hope so mommy, I do. I love you both, so much."  
"We love you too, Dez. Now, close your eyes."

I do, with my face buried between them and their warm embraces around me. My mother begins to hum, and her beautiful, beautiful voice engulfs and surrounds me. I know now, I'm more like her than I've ever thought. My temper, my attitude, my stubbornness and love for music, is all from her. The love I have for Charon, equals that of the love she has for my father.

As I stand between them, my eyes closed and warm all around, I wonder if she made the same choice. Deciding, for the better of her newborn child and her love, that it was her time to stay. Did she even have a choice? I can't imagine, she would choose to stay without my father. But, maybe my mom is like me in that way, too. Maybe, in the same way I felt I had to go back, she felt she had to stay. Patiently waiting for the day my father returned to her, my mother felt it must have been better for all if she remained here. It wasn't better for my father, but maybe since my mom is wise because all moms are, she felt it was better for me. Felt her absence, would help put me on the path I was meant to go on, and so she gave the ultimate sacrifice.

I hope she did the right thing, and I promise I'll spend the rest of my life showing her she did. I'll love Charon with all the love I have, and when I'm ready agree to giving him the family his heart desires. If my mother can selflessly remove herself, for the betterment of my own life, so that I could come and experience love and all the wonders I have, then I too can be selfless. I can do all I can, for everyone I love, and never ask anything in return. Only…only I hope when time comes for me to bear child and become a mother, that I can give that child the world. That I can love them, cherish them, and sacrifice the same things my mom did for me. If it wasn't for her, wasn't for her death, my father would have never gone to the vault. And in that small split-second choice he made to go back and then leave, I would have never been put on the path to meet Charon.

Bringing down the Enclave, Talon, and Brotherhood in no particular order, is nothing to be proud of. The only thing I can rightfully be proud of doing, is by doing all I've done for Charon, Gob and Nova. Because I guess that's what life is. Giving to others, all you can, and loving them as much as you can. I think that's why, my mom chose to stay. Because in her death and absence, came such beauty. Think about it. I never would have met Gob, killed Colin, and then he would have never been able to woo Nova. Zack, who is a miracle beyond belief, never would have been born. Even though Nova isn't with him, I'm sure she did the same as my mother did for me. And Gob has Zack, and I still have Charon. All those lives I've helped, without even knowing I was helping them, would never have been aided if my mother, stayed with my father. I respect, admire, and appreciate her so much more than I ever did before for that. The Lone Wanderer, was simply meant to happen, and that wanderer was meant to be me, and I was meant to do all I've done. I was meant, to meet Charon and love him, and have my eyes opened to all that is beautiful. Hey mom, you're pretty fuckin' badass, you know that? I hope so. I really, really do.

As the warmth of their love, and the sound of my mother's voice drifts further and further away, I realize I don't miss it. I don't pine for it as I've done so many times before, but instead, feel happy. Like I did the right thing. It takes forever, for their warmth and sounds to fully leave my mind and for the feeling of cold to pass through me. But it's alright, because while I'm laying here, with the cold around, I feel strong hands beneath me. Strong arms, holding me, and the warmth from that is enough. It's enough, but, I don't feel like opening my eyes.

I can still see the blue skies, with my eyes closed. My time with those skies is limited, so I want my mom to know, my dad to know, that I love and appreciate all their sacrifices. I might not know of them, or remember them when I open my eyes but I just want them to know. If it wasn't for their love, I don't think I would be half the woman I am. I'd be Amata, really, and that isn't too grand. Mom, dad, I love you. Keep watching over me, because the show is only just beginning. There won't be amazing adventures, but in the life of me, there's still moments and memories galore to come. Promise.

Opening my eyes slowly, my entire body hurts. It's stiff, it's cold, and it's full of pain. But shit, I'm alive and damn glad of that. Around me, I feel people. I feel arms and legs around my body and my face feels annoyingly wet. Shivering from someone holding me makes me realize hey, they're sad. I want to tell them not to be sad, but the strength to speak let alone move, hasn't been given yet.

"Charon, Charon _look_!"

Looking around, the stars of the night sky come into focus. I look around, moving only my eyes. I can't see Amata, but that was really her voice. You know who I can see, though? Charon. When his eyes meet mine, it's like his whole world just came back together again. He stares into my eyes, disbelieving. I groan, to tell him hey, it's alright.

"Fu-uck."

I moan because I'm in _pain_. Pain so bad that I can't even move my toes even if I tried. In his rush to love and relish in the moment, Charon jerks me close to him, and it fucking hurts.

"Dez…Dez…"

He sobs into me while I whine.

"Ow…ow…it _hurts_…"

My cries go unnoticed as he covers my face in kisses. Doesn't he understand that there's time for this later? That this love shit can be put on hold. I think I've broken every bone in my body right now, and that's a bit more vital than kissy-faces.

"You're alive…you're alive…"

Well, yeah, what? You expect me to die that easy? Sorry the world isn't done suffering from my presence yet.

"It _hurts_."

I groan at him, trying to get my point across. Charon nods, still in happy shock.

"You're alive, Dez…I'm so happy."

Frowning, I want to hit him in the face. But I can't, because my arm is pretty broken and useless. So I resort to the next best thing, crying.

"Ow…ow…"

I over-exaggerate it, because it's the only way he'll listen. I see him nod and finally, he gets the picture.

"Alright, alright just…just don't die on me. Amata, follow me."

Carefully, Charon lifts me up. He takes extra-special care of my limp and useless body as he walks. With every step he takes though, a jolt of pain gets sent mercilessly through my body.

"Ow!"

I cry again, and Charon kisses my head.

"We're going to Tenpenny. It's alright, it's alright."

Well of course it is, for you. You're not broken. I can only move my left leg and that's not saying much. My arms hurt, my right leg hurts, and it feels like a Super Mutant has been doing the samba on my entire torso. But hey, it's alright Charon.

"Be careful."

I say and he laughs, again with the kisses. It's like he can't get enough of that. As annoyed with it as I am, though, I secretly understand. I know what it's like, to believe you've lost someone. To see their body laying there, and knowing there's nothing you can do to help them, to save them. Charon's mind isn't like everyone else's. He's strong, calm, and does well under stress. But, only when that stress pertains to war or battles. He's been dealing with emotions for five years now, but still, he's not yet use to it. There's things I'm sure, he has yet to feel and face. Knowing he saw me like that, held my body, it must have been something so hard for him. I don't think, Charon's really ever dealt with that form of loss. I'm scared to think of what'll happen, if his fragile mind snaps. I saw the aftermath of what happens when the Brotherhood fucks with things they shouldn't, and after all I've seen, it still scared me.

I look upwards at the sky, as Charon walks to the tower. Aside from him, they're the only unchanging thing in my life. Charon looks down at me again, and our eyes meet. I smile through the pain I feel, I smile at him, just for him. The responsibility placed on me, after seeing his reaction to the sound o his trainer's voice is immense. It's up to me now, to pay attention to his needs. To care for him, as he has for me. Charon's past is only now haunting him, coming back in a way it never has before. With no one left to fight, and the world at our fingertips, we have all the time in the world. We have the time, to help him deal, with a past that he's refusing to face. But he doesn't have to worry. Because somehow, somehow I'll help him through that. I'll hold his hand, guide him, and share his pain and joys alongside him. Since I was nineteen, it's always been about me. It's his turn in the spotlight of despair, as my past can be put on hold. Charon needs me now, and I don't feel like letting him down.

"Are we there yet?"

I ask, nestling my head into the crook of his elbow. My neck is really stiff, like I've been sleeping on it wrong. My entire body feels that way, aches, pains.

"Soon, I can see it."

Sighing I smirk.

"Good. I want to take a hot, irradiated bath."

"Do you now?"

"With you."

Opening my eyes, I give him a smirk. Charon smirks back, and I hear Amata from somewhere I can't see. Which reminds me, I have a serious bone to pick with him about her. If I'm going to be selfless and caring, it better be fucking worth it and him running off tapping every hot ass that strolls on by, is far from worth it.

"All this walking hurts."

Oh really, Amata? I figured being caught in an explosion and having a near-death experience would be a bit worse.

"Yeah well, I can't move my legs."

I tell her, failing to also point out my arm is useless, too. Charon sighs and looks away from Princess Amata. There's something in his eyes we need to talk about. After my bath, of course. Oh thank you Tenpenny Tower, for having baths, and radiation, plus indoor plumbing. You, are a marvel.

"Where are we going, anyways?"

She asks and Charon answers her.

"Tenpenny Tower. A penthouse hotel reserved for ghouls."

"So I can't get in?"

"I hope not."

I say, my sarcasm never leaving me in any condition.

"Well if _I_ can't get in, neither can you."

"I'll argue that."

"Enough."

Charon ends the argument with a stern voice. We know enough to shut our mouths because he means business. So serious. I make a face at him and he shakes his head at me. I feel his arms shift under me, and I try to crane my neck to see how close we are. Actually, we're almost there. Another few minutes, and all will be in tip-top shape.

Inside the tower, Roy Phillips stands in the lobby area near the restrooms. It's really late, and I'm surprised he's even awake.

"You're still alive?"

He says to Charon, noticing instantly the situation is severe.

"We need a room for the night, Roy."

"Last time you two stayed here we were ambushed."

"That problem has been taken care of."

"And who's this smoothskin?"

Roy refers to Amata, who cowers behind Charon. Charon looks back, and sighs.

"She'll need a room too. She's our annoyance, more than anything."

"Can't bunk in one bed?"

"Roy, there are things I have to speak with Dez about. Things…third partied people shouldn't overhear."

Charon glares angrily at Amata. Hello have I been forgotten? Trying to move, I get struck with a bout of pain and I groan. Charon looks down at me.

"Alright, alright. Roy, is that fine?"

"What's wrong with Dez?"

"I'm dying! I'm dy-ing!"

He stares at me, not believing my dramatics.

"What, can't you walk?"

"No my leg is broken. This one works alright."

To prove my point I extend my leg into the air. It makes my back hurt, so I quickly let it drop. Roy shakes his head.

"I don't even _want_ to know what the hell you two got into this time. Ah, well. One night won't hurt. Don't think you're welcome here longer, though. Nothing personal, I have to keep my people safe."

"Thank you. Do you mind taking this one off of our hands?"

Charon asks him, and Roy sighs.

"You two take your old suite, I'll show her to a vacant one-bedroom. Come on smoothskin."

"Is he talking to me?"

Amata whispers from somewhere behind Charon. No, you dumbshit, he's talking to the _other_ smoothskin that's been following us. Speaking of Boone, where the fuck did he go to? Ah, well, not important right now.

"Yes, stupid."

I say, wanting to get out of my rags and into a warm bath.

"I'm not following him."

"Alright sleep out here I don't give a fuck."

Roy begins to walk away and like a stubborn dog, Amata follows. No, no comparing her to a dog would be far too insulting to the canine species. But either way, she follows, and leaves me and Charon alone. Good riddance.


	64. Come on Closer

In the bathtub, I sit back and relax. My head leans against the back of the old pre-war tub as the radiation finishes it's magic on my limbs. Charon's still undressing, and I watch him as I bring my lit cigarette to my lips.

"Taking your time."

I say to him. The bathroom is big, empty, echoing. It's lit just enough for us to see, to cast shadows, but not to create a dim, romantic setting. I can't feel romance sexually for him, until this Amata situation gets cleared up. Charon looks at me, nude, and I move so that he can sit across from me.

"This is ridiculous."

"Entertain the queen!"

As he sits I shove my long leg into his face. He pushes it aside, back into the water. Sinking in, Charon rests his arms on either side of the once-white tub. I stare at him, smoke mixing with the hot steam. Nothing, beats this.

"It feels nice in here. Can't remember, the last time I had a bath…"

He trails off, leaning his head back. I sigh and mimic his position. The tub is big enough to fit us both comfortably.

"I have something I want to ask you. You can't lie to me though, Charon. That's an order."

His eyes open as I give him a sarcastic smirk. He looks at me, lighting his own cigarette. The lights flicker a bit, and I look around, curious.

"Probably a storm. It was cloudy."

I shrug as he tells me, not caring since we're inside and tonight, we can return to the suite we once shared. Sometimes, I think, it's good to start over.

"What happened with you and Amata?"

Looking away, Charon sighs and I feel his toes touch mine. I wiggle mine, and he curls his.

"She told you then?"

"Yeah…right after McGraw took us."

"An odd time for that to come out."

"Last confession. She thought we were going to die. For a time, I did, too."

"Dez?"

Sitting up I slump my shoulders forward, and look off to the side.

"I've been kidnapped, and taken hostage enough, to know that nine times out of ten I'll be alright. But…when she told me, I didn't care then, if I lived or died."

"My mistakes shouldn't have hold on you so deeply, Dez."

"What am I fighting for, if I'm not fighting for you? Tell me, Charon, what? Because other than you, I can't think of any reason to continue living like this."

He stares at me, as the long-awaited tears stream down my face. Eventually, it all has to effect me.

"It was all about me, for so long that…that when it changed I didn't expect it. All of a sudden, I'm living and breathing for someone else. For you and I didn't know what to do about it. Somehow, I accepted it and now, I don't know any other way. Because if you're taken from my life, the picture, nothing has much reason. All we've been fighting for is for us to live in peace. What's peace, though, if you're not living it with me?"

I lean over the tub and put my cigarette out in a puddle of water. Even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel his eyes burning into me.

"If I wasn't around, you'd have found another reason. Maybe not a man but, a purpose of your own."

"_You're_ my purpose can't you accept that?"

Charon smokes his cigarette, his silence making me mad. I wrap my arms around myself, holding my elbows and looking away. I feel cold, even though the water is as hot as the desert sand.

"No."

Surprised I look at him.

"Because if all you've living for is me, then your life is empty. Everyone has other purposes."

He's right in his own way. But still, it hurts. I didn't strive so hard to live, to be insulted by a man who was unfaithful.

"I guess that's why you did what you did. After all, who would want a woman so dependant on them? I sure as hell wouldn't. I can't even take care of myself."  
He gives me a sad smile, but I don't care for it. I don't want to look at him, as I pull my knees to my chin and wrap my arms around my shins.

"You know that's not how I meant it, Dez. I just don't want you to spend all your time worrying about me."

"I want to, though."

"If you want to, I can't do much to stop you."

"Tell me why you fucked Amata. Tell me or I'll hate you forever. I'm serious."

Charon puts out his cigarette and looks at me. He sinks a bit lower in the tub, submerging his hands.

"I know you're serious. I can't give an explanation, other than the truth. You won't believe the truth."

"Try me."

"Two and a half bottles of whiskey, Dez. I went to the room I rented for _us_. When I woke up, it wasn't you. There's no other truth."

I don't know what to think. He says it so calmly, so easily, it's like he doesn't even care. To trust him again, to open up again, I don't know if I can.

"You say it like you don't even care you did it."

"Because I don't right now. All I care about is that you're alive. Dez…"

Reaching, Charon pulls me into his body. The water splashes along the sides of the tub, and makes small waves against my movement. I don't want to be this close to him, I want to protest and stay angry for a while. Show him that it still hurts, regardless of the events that took place just recently. Charon presses his mouth to the top of my head, his hands around my shoulders as my back faces him.

"I can't live either, if you die without me. Knowing you're with me, alive, safe, is all I can think to busy myself with. Be mad for months if you need to be, but I can't bother anymore, with pettiness. Almost losing you…was one of those things, I never want to go through again."

Charon kisses the back of my neck, and beneath the water my fingers play with my toes. Tears run down my face still, angry ones, sad ones, somewhat happy ones. My toes, they're so small in my hands. Charon's touch around my shoulders is warm and inviting.

"You know, Charon, eventually you're going to have to deal with your past."

"I know."

"I'll be there, too. I'll help you."

"It's not something one can help with."

"Still…I can try."

He holds me tight, the hard comfort of his chest supporting my back. Stretching out my legs, I feel Charon's against them. Our thighs touch, calves, and my toes come to his heels. He moves to grab a cleaning rag, and pushes me forward. I hunch over, and let him wash my back. It feels warm, nice.

"I've always admired that about you."

"What about me? Gimmie a smoke."

Pausing from my back, Charon leans over. With a wet hand he carefully lights a cigarette. His arm reaches around, and his fingers place it in my lips.

"Your determination. When you want something, want to do something, there's not much anyone can do to stop you."

"I get it from my mother."  
I feel him stop for a minute, and then resume rubbing.

"I thought you didn't know your mother?"

"I didn't. But, I'm more like her than I thought. I do things, the same way. She…she gave up a lot, for the ones she loved."

"How'd you figure this?"

"A feeling."

"Hm."

Smiling at the thought of my mom, I look up and Charon puts the cloth on my head. When he takes it off, I see the tiled ceiling.

"When you figure out, what you need to about your past, and how to fix it, we'll do it."

"Dez you can't fix the past."

"But you can face it. Charon, you lost it back there. At the fort you…I'd never seen something like that from you."

"They provoked me."

"Yeah but…I don't know."

"You were in danger."

"I've been in danger before and you've never done that."

"As I said, they provoked me. I'm sure if they did so at any other point, I would have done the same."

"I had no idea, that's how dangerous you are. It almost makes me not want to like you anymore."

I turn my head to face him, so he knows at least for a bit I'm joking. Well, a little. Taking the cigarette from me, Charon puts it in his mouth.

"I'm far more dangerous than that, Dez. What you saw back there, was a simple task. I've been trained for far worse."

"One day soon, you'll tell me all of this, right? So that I can help? I know you've told me before, some of it, but…you can't tell a two-hundred-year story, in a night."

"Perhaps."

I lean on him, and he drops the rag into the water. My hands reach to take the cigarette away and he laughs at me.

"You can't run away from it forever. You're a work-in-progress, still."

"I'm well-aware of that, Dez. In time, I'll figure out how to deal with it. When I do, you'll be the first to know."

Charon takes the cigarette back and puts it out. He wraps his arms around me, and brings my face in for a long, passionate kiss. In this warm bath, wrapped in his arms, I can't think of any other place I'd rather be. No fluffy paradise, is comparable, to this feeling. Charon, shines too brightly, for a girl who's been so subservient.

As our kiss ends, we stare at one another. Hot temptations come over us, and his lips kiss along my neck. Lining them up, they match, one after another perfectly. He holds me tight, but gentle, so I know if I wanted, I could pull away. But I don't want to leave.

"Hey…Charon?"

"Hm?"

He sighs, as I turn my body to face him and his lips venture down my scarred and ruined chest.

"Even if you change to something entirely different, you'll still love me, and only me, right?"

Picking up his head, Charon looks at me. I rest my hands on his shoulders, as his head is carefully placed on my chest.

"The way I feel for you, won't ever change, no matter how much I do."

Hey, Charon…we've been through a lot, haven't we? I know, this isn't the time to think of these things. That this is the time, where I'm supposed to think of nothing but the feelings, your touch, and the sensations only you can invoke in me. But, I want to think about this. I want to think about, everything we've been through, and how we got here. Here, in this tub, here with one another, on such a deep emotional level that no one in the free world can compare to or even understand. It'd take a long time, for anyone, to analyze us.

I want to share this with the world, you know. It's selfish, that I'm the only one in this entire place to feel these things. At least, that's what I think. Is thinking that, selfish, too? Your touch, your kiss, it makes this fire burn brightly inside me. It's hotter than the sun, and it keeps me so warm, on those cold nights. No man, could ever touch me like you, and make me feel this powerful intensity of emotions. Your hands, Charon, know my body better than my own. When you touch me, cares me, it's like a whole new experience, and each time is more moving and powerful than the last.

If we can live like this, forever, I don't think I'd ever want anything different. If each night, you can stir me up this wild, this excited, then there's no reason for me to ever leave again. You have to change what you're doing at each instant, knowing I can't stop myself. Knowing, that if you continue on this way, I'll tell everyone who can hear, of the way you make me feel.

I wish, I had met you first, Charon. Wish, I hadn't left my innocent self in some storage room somewhere in the vault. Had I known, men like you existed, that I'd one day meet you, I'd have passed my time with the fantasies of what we'd do. With the girlish indulging, of our adventures, our talks, and everything in between. I'd have waited for you, to turn me into the sexual being you met me as. I wish, right now at this moment, it was only, always, ever, you. Both of us, Charon, have had other men, other women. I don't like to think about that. I don't like to think, that maybe you've made someone else feel this kind of power. Something tells me, though, you save this for me, and only me.

Would I be so caring towards you, so understanding and forgiving though, if it was you who took my innocence? I was so angry towards Butch, but, maybe it's because of who he was. I don't know, if we'd be here now, if you took hold and demanded from me, what I demanded from you. Do you regret it, Charon? I don't. I don't have any regrets, so long as you're beside me. While your hands rest firmly on my thighs, and you look up at me with that wanting desire, I can't help but give in. I can't help but go weak at the knees, and blush breathless every time those eyes stare into me like that. I can't help, but give you all of me, every time you ask.

This control, this power you have over all I do, is still new and unknown to you. I'm scared, Charon, that you'll use it against me. I hope you won't, hope you won't take advantage, of the naïve mind of a vault girl like me, and become overbearing and domineering. I want us to stay like this. New, fresh, tender and soft. When I feel you this way, Charon, I don't think there's anything that could make me happier. There's love in your heart for me, Charon, I'm sure of it.

Your heavy breathing is a distracting and welcoming noise. It excites me, and fuels that fire that you first ignite. Because I know when you breathe like that, it's me you're thinking about. Only me, just me, and I'm in your full attention. The world to you, like it does with me, takes a backseat in our minds. Right now, it's just the two of us. Since that night we first spent alone in that abandoned home, we've reserved moments like this, for just us. As if emotion and tradition, help keep it alive, new, powerful.

As the night goes on, as the water moves and splashes over the edges of the tub, I can only think of you. Of the noises we make together, of the feelings we each feel, of the touch we can both give. Hey, Charon, did you know, that I love you? My hands shake, as you come closer, as you come nearer and nearer to me. But it's alright, because you feel it, too, and when your hands wrap with mine, they stop. As your mouth encases mine, and explores the regions most men desire for, and your hips balance below mine, I shake. I shake until you touch me to stop, until you wrap your arms around me, and pull me into a closer embrace. I've never felt, so fearful and excited, over anyone before. You could end me now, if you wanted, with those skilled hands that cover over mine. But you don't, and I know you won't, because right now, Charon, you love me, too.

"Charon…"

I whisper in your ear, as I've done countless times before. It's my way, of saying you make me feel alive. My way, of telling you I'll love you until the end of time. The way your name escapes my lips, is nothing short of passion, desire, and need. Way deep inside, I feel you in all those different ways, and I know you feel me, too. I've got a lot to say, Charon, if you'll let me. Let me express these words, with tender feelings and soft touches. Your tongue against mine, as your hand holds my jaw in place, as I shudder all over, is the only way I can express it. The only way, I can vocalize and show you, how much you mean to me. How much, I'd be willing to give, for nights like these.

Don't let me stray, Charon. Keep me here, in your grasp. No other man's touch, even holds a candle to yours. If I could go back, back in time, I'd change it all, so that you'd be the only thing I ever knew. The only being, I was ever this intimate with. But…I know, you're truly the only one, who can make me feel these things. It's so scary, to be aware of the importance of one man. Scary, to know, that no person left in the world, could ever come close to what you do for me, and what you give me.

"Dezbe…"

You say my name, in the same way I cry out yours. I feel your fingers, filling the spaces between mine, as I press myself against you. Are you as scared of me, as I am of you?

"Don't leave, Dezbe."

Whispering to me like you are, holding me, moving with me, keeping me this close in this way, Charon…I can only believe…you are.

"As long as you stay, so will I."

It's a promise, sealed with more passion, more turmoil. You're just as scared and as vulnerable as I am, and it's the first time you've ever admitted it. I've never meant much, to anyone but you, Charon. I've always been replaceable and disposable, except, to you. I've looked, trust me I have, there's no one comparable to you, and I think you feel the same. I've never been this important to anyone but here, right now, I am.

"I love you."

I say with dripping emotion, with wanting desperation and admiration. The water moves with us, and against us, as I patiently wait for your own outpour of emotions. In this bathroom, our eyes meet, and all I can hear is the soft keys, of our arousing duet together. Will you play for me, just as I've played for you? Will you one day, express those expressionless things with such beauty and effort, as I've done? I want you to, Charon. To hear the music you can create, by just thinking of me, is selfish, and enticing.

I've been without you, for so long. My entire life, for nineteen years, was lost to the blurred movements of mundane life. Even when I left it all behind, I never felt alive, until you entered my life. Until you came, saving me in every way a person can possibly be saved, I'd never lived. Never felt, the ties that bind people. The illogical reasoning of emotions like 'love' and 'lust'. But, those words, those feelings, hold no water to what I feel for you. Impatience, followed by admiration, and envy. There's no logic, to any of it but Charon trust me when I say, that love isn't as powerful, as what I have for you. I call it, simply us, me, and you.

And as the keys slow down, as the notes become softer, quieter, I stare at you. Breathless, flushing red and exhausted, I lean on your chest. You hold me close, in the cooled water, your arms around my back, I can hear your heart beating with my ear against your chest. Tired as I am, Charon, there's nothing I desire more, than to feel this with you every chance I get. It isn't a perverted want of sex, or even a slight feel of horny and erratic behavior, no. What it is, with us Charon, is the showing of strong, vast emotions, that can't be shared in any other way. It's our own way, of expressing things, that no one else in this world can understand, except you, and me.


End file.
